


The Junkyard Dogs

by TrashPanda



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Basically sex slaves in whore houses cant have mates but Derek meets Stiles and shit happens, Brothels, Claiming, Derek Hale Being an Idiot, Drugged Sex, First Time, Forced Prostitution, Hurt Derek, Knotting, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Peter is evil..., Pining, Prostitute Derek, Self-Lubrication, Sexual Slavery, Slave master Peter, Werewolf Derek, additional tags to be added later, because SOMEONE had to be a villain, mention of MPREG, stalker behavior, use of wolfsbane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashPanda/pseuds/TrashPanda
Summary: Orphaned at a young age, Derek is sold into the slave market. His dynamic as an alpha, and a werewolf, make him a desirable slave to have working in Peter's alpha brothel, The Junkyard.Stiles is a 21 year old virgin omega who's tired of going through heats alone. Dating isn't a realistic prospect, so he seeks out The Junkyard, hoping to maybe find an alpha to help him through his rapidly approaching heat.Then he meets Derek, one of the Junkyard Dogs, who's also about to go into rut. And nothing could stop the pull they feel towards one another.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I did this thing! If you like it, awesome! If you hate it, well...nobody forced you to read it :)
> 
> All in all, I see a lot of hurt/omega/whore/whateveromgpoorstiles fics and I realized, I havnt seen any fics about an alpha being the one enslaved for their sexual abilities in an omegaverse before...So I decided to indulge in my own little fantasy!
> 
> If there IS some fics out there with this concept, I'd love to know! Cuz I wanna read em!
> 
> Anyway...I'm not called Trashpanda for nothing! So here's some trash from this panda ;)

Derek was more tired than usual tonight. With his rut so close, his clientele had doubled, if not tripled over the past week and it was beginning to weigh on him.

The alpha brothel he belonged to, The Junkyard, owned six male alphas whose ruts were all staggered according to their cycles every 6 months. It was set up, so that there was a ‘Rut Week’, once a month, every month. This week, was Derek’s highest grossing time for work.

Alpha females, some betas, but especially the omegas went wild for an alpha male in rut. For one night, or more if they paid the price, they could pretend, they could live their fantasy of being claimed by an alpha - but without the strings attached that came with it. And it was Derek’s job to make them feel desired and claimed and consumed in their lust.

There were rules in place, of course. Derek wasn't allowed to bite anybody, especially on the neck where an alpha would typically leave a claiming mark. And he couldn't knot anyone unless they paid for an entire night with him. A knot could take a while to go down and would leave Derek spent for a time, and he needed to get in, get the client off, and get out so he could get ready for the next customer in a timely manner in order to turn the most profit.

There was a knock at the door.

_Speaking of profit._

With a long suffering sigh, Derek rubbed his tired eyes harshly before rising to answer it. The music from the club downstairs blared in Derek’s ears as he swung open the door. His handler, a beta named Isaac, stood in the doorway.

“All set for the next client?” Isaac asked with a smile.

Derek glared. He hated how cheery Isaac was sometimes, especially at nearly 1AM. “Is this the last one?”

Isaac glanced down at the ipad balanced in his palm. “Last one. And she’s requesting to be knotted. Are you able to yet?”

Derek wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not that his rut wasn’t close enough for him to knot anyone yet. “No dice.” He said, shaking his head.

Isaac nodded, tapping something into the screen. “Alright then, after her you’ll be on club duty with Boyd at the bar until 3.”

“You gotta be kidding me…” Derek growled in frustration. The days leading up to his rut were taxing. His hormones were running rampant and he was irritable as all hell. Or... _more_ irritable than normal.

“Rut week Derek. Gotta network. You know how it is.” Isaac looked sympathetic for a moment, before he added “I can let the boss know you’ll be missing your exercises tomorrow morning so you can get some rest.”

Derek nodded his assent. As his handler, Isaac was the one who managed his schedule, made sure Derek went to the gym and informed him of his doctors appointment in order to keep him healthy and disease free. However, all things on Derek’s schedule had to be approved by their boss, and the owner of The Junkyard, Peter.

Derek _loathed_ Peter, ever since he was bought by him at the slave auction and forced him into this life.

 _“It will be great!”_ Peter said. _“With your looks and that mysterious, brooding attitude, my clients will love it. And constant sex every day! What more could you ask for?”_

More. Derek wanted more. But he’d never get to have it.

Isaac belonged to Peter as well, and Derek knew that the guy didn't have much choice but to follow orders when it came to handling Derek. Isaac had no family, much like Derek. There weren't a lot of options for orphans who had found their way into the slave trade. Escaping it wasn't an easy task. And nobody would be interested in buying a whore out of their contract.

So, as it remained, this was his lot in life.

Isaac left to go retrieve the client.

She was a regular by the name of Kate. Whether or not that was her real name, Derek didn't know. And he really didn't care either. Kate had been coming to him since he’d first started at the brothel. The woman was a maneater, an alpha as well, and as insatiable as she was insufferable.

Kate entered the room, carrying with her the aire of confidence and smugness she usually donned, as befitted her dynamic and obvious wealth and the power she had over people. Derek wouldn't be cowed by Kate. Which he believed was one of the reasons she’d been so interested in him. She took pleasure in forcing other alphas to submit to her. But she also loved a challenge. Two years and four ruts later, and Derek still hadn't submitted.

She had that mischievous glint in her eye, and Derek knew this was going to be a long night.

“Kate.” Derek greeted, as polite as he could, trying to keep the spike of irritation out of his scent as she sauntered into the room and sat her ‘toy bag’ on the small couch that adorned his large room.

“I have a treat tonight, Wolf.” She said, pulling out a large flogger, a blindfold and a cock ring and set it on top of the dresser.

Wolf, of course, was his working name. Since he was, you know, a werewolf and all. _Real fucking original, Peter._ She turned back to him.

“Strip.” Kate commanded.

.

An hour and a half later, Kate finally left. His back and the skin of Derek’s ass was sore and tender from the flogging, and his balls ached from her damned orgasm denial. She’d edged him for far longer than she normally did, wanting him to beg and plead and cry for release. And Derek almost caved. He was so tired and just wanted this night to end, but he knew that if he begged her to let him cum, she’d draw it out longer. Which was what she’d intended.

When Kate finally slid the condom on him and straddled his hips to sink down on his length, Derek had groaned in relief; Kate, of course, mistook it for pleasure. But Derek was just relieved that their time together was almost over. She’d be back though. She always come back during his rut so he could knot her slutty cunt.

Derek hissed as he stepped under the hot spray of the shower. He scrubbed himself with the scent neutralizing soap before rinsing, the water sluicing over his body and washing away the lingering scents of dominating alpha bitch from his skin.

He heard Isaac come into his room, likely to change his bedding as he always did after each client, before the beta rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door.

“Five minutes, Derek!” He called out.

Derek snarled at the door, earning a _yip_ from Isaac before the beta hurried out of the room.

Derek finished washing, deciding not to shave the stubble from his chin and jaw and stepped out of the shower to wrap a towel around his hips.

Wiping the fog off of the mirror, he stared at himself. Green-hazel eyes stared back at him from a harsh, angular face, skin dull from lack of sleep and eyes bloodshot and devoid of their usual luster. Slicking his raven hair back, Derek psyched himself up. He had to keep up appearances. The last thing he wanted was a visit from Peter.

 

*

 

“Stiles, I don't know if this is such a good idea…” Scott grumbled from the passenger seat of the jeep.

“Scott, I’m a 21 year old virgin. I’m too busy to date, and don't want anything serious. Which is the only way I’m going to get any with anyone!” Stiles’ hands flailed animatedly as he spoke. “I just want to have sex, no strings attached. Is that too much to ask? I need to have sex, right now! Somebody needs to sex me right now!”

“I’ll do it!” Danny piped up from the backseat.

Stiles gave hectic glances to the rearview mirror back at him. “O-oh, wow, thank you so much! Are you serious?”

Danny snorted. “Nope.”

Stiles glared. “It’s not cool to play with an omega’s emotions like that!” He focused back on the road. “You alphas suck sometimes…”

“If we suck so much, then please tell me, why the hell are we going to an _alpha whorehouse_?! Not only is it immoral, but it’s illegal! What would your dad say if he found out we’re doing this?”

“He’ll only find out if you tell him!” Stiles argued. “Besides, we’ve done plenty of illegal shit before. Why should this be any different?”

“Stiles…” Scott gave him those puppy dog eyes. Asshole.

Stiles already knew the answer to his question. Dynamic slave trade on the black market was something that the country’s law enforcement was on the lookout for. And many of the slaves sold or bought ended up in the very establishments they were going to. He’d heard of The Junkyard through Lydia, who’d said it was disguised as a club, but the patrons could pay for “a little something extra” from the strippers and the others who worked there. And the people who worked for the club? All alphas. Which Stiles was very much interested in.

Considering the shenanigans he and Scott engaged in; trespassing, interfering in police investigations, robbery (but it was for a good cause!) of medical supplies from the hospital, this little outing was fairly mild. Hell, he may not even get laid tonight. His real mission was to scope out the place, see what sort of alphas were lurking about and if any had caught his eye. Because honestly? He didn't really want Scott and Danny in the same vicinity when he finally lost his virginity, and _especially_ not during his heat.

.

The club was _packed_ when the three of them arrived. _So this is debauchery..._ Stiles though as he gazed around the crowded area. The dance floor was a sea of writhing bodies, women and men in cages atop platform were dressed scantily as the danced to the music, the long bar was lined was people conversing, kissing, groping. Lights flashed and strobed intermittently, and the continuously present black lights illuminated the eyes of those in the club who weren't exactly human.

Stiles tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling very warm suddenly at the sight of all of the people grinding and the sharp scent of lust in the air.

A bouncer stopped the trio at the door and asked for their ID. The burly man looked suspiciously at Stiles, then Danny, but barely even looked at Scott. His best friend was a werewolf, afterall, and this place apparently catered to the species. Humans? The were cautious of the humans they let in.

“Cause any trouble, I’ll throw you out myself.” The bouncer said, nearly shouting over the music and making Stiles blanch. “Y-yeah! No problem, man! It’s all good! I’m cool!-”

Scott hurriedly ushered them away from the bouncer and towards the bar. “Try... _not_ talking too much while we’re here. Yeah?” He didn't say this _un_ kindly, but still.

Stiles was about to come back at him with a witty, well balanced retort, when he friend completely tuned him out and focuses his attention on a girl dancing in one of the cages.

Stiles followed his gaze and spotted who Scott was zoned in on. Slim body, small tight ass, perky breasts and dark hair that swished past her shoulder blades as she danced. She rolled her hips seductively as she turned and writhed in time with the music against the bars, making her face visible. She was of asian descent, and her eyes glowed amber, indicating her species. _Fox shifter…_

Scott began to make a beeline for her before Stiles could stop him.

“What the fuck?!” Stiles scoffed. “He lectures me about coming here, then goes chasing the first tail he see’s! Talk about irony, right Danny?...Danny?” Stiles whirled around, noticing then that Danny had ditched him as well, and was chatting it up with some guy at the bar. The other man’s eyes glowed blue. _Beta werewolf._

“For fuck’s sake…” Stiles sighed, deciding to belly up to the bar and grab a drink for himself to loosen the tension he suddenly felt.

Trying to get the attention of the several bartenders wasn't easy. They were slammed, and tending to the humans in the club was obviously not a priority. Humans drank a hell of a lot less than shifters did, therefore not spending a lot of money in order to get tipsy, so usually they weren't worth their time.

Stiles was about to give up and go outside to get some much needed air to clear his head of the bombardment of pheromones, when a large, very broody, very _attractive,_ man leaned over the bar. “What can I get you?” He asked.

Stiles blinked at him, his brain short circuiting at the beautiful face, full lips, dark hair and striking green eyes directed his way. “U-uh...drink..I’d like a drink.”

The man raised a thick, dark eyebrow at him. “Obviously, kid. NOw what is it you want?”

“Oh! Beer, I think?”

The sexy man fixed him with a flat stare, before striding off behind the bar again.

Stiles took a seat on an empty stool, fidgeting with a cardboard coaster as he waited, and a little unsure that the guy would actually carry out his drink order.

A few moments later, a drink was plunked down on the coaster he was fidgeting with. It was clear and fizzy, with some red liquid floating at the top as it slowly bled through the ice into the rest of the drink. Stiles looked at it, then back at the bartender. “What’s this?”

“Shirley temple.” The bartender said as he placed a little plastic sword full of cherries into the glass.

 _What the?-_ “But, I asked for a beer!”

The bartender only smirked, then moved further down the line to take someone else’s order at the far end.

With a sigh, Stiles mixed the red liquid, which he realized now was grenadine, into the sprite and took a sip-

Then almost choked. _Damn that’s strong!_ The sudden taste of vodka burned a bit, and made him feel a bit toasty inside. But after he took a moment to catch his breath, he realized that he kind of liked it. He took several more sips before eating a cherry.

 

*

 

Derek was in a foul mood while tending bar, and the other bartenders took quick notice and avoided him, trying their best to stay out of his way.

He was always irritable before a rut, and the pheromones from all of the people in the club tonight was hitting him pretty hard.

Derek was in the middle of pouring a draft though, when a particular scent stood out from the others. Looking around the bar, he tried to pinpoint it, and wondered to himself why the scent had stood out amongst the rest.

It was a mixture of clean and spicey, clean and pure yet laced with that spike of sweetness that could only come from an omega. And his alpha instincts honed in on it.

When he spotted to source of the scent, he could practically _see_ the pheromones radiating off of the young man. _Omega in preheat-_

He tamped down his instinctive need to jump the guy, who already looked lost as it was, and opted for a more casual approach. Sex wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind after the kind of night he’d had, but the scent of an omega in preheat made his nerves buzz against his will.

He’d asked the man what he wanted, and watched as the he’d sort of stumbled all over himself. He wondered if the kid was even old enough to drink, but the bouncer of the club with nothing if not thorough with the ID inspections and nobody was allowed inside under twenty one. But when the kid had said, with a questioning inflection, that he wanted _beer,_ Derek got a better idea.

Clearly, the kid was nervous. He was a human surrounded by shifters, he was in preheat and nervous as hell. On top of which, he seemed so fucking _young._ Feeling a bit impish, Derek made him a girly drink, knowing how much omegas loved sweets before their heat, and spiking it with a generous dose of vodka to relax him.

He’d left the young man to his own devices, feeling a little smug and a bit less irritated at his situation as he tended to other patrons at the opposite end of the bar. Something about their short interaction had lifted his mood.

However, his mood was once again soured when he made his way back to where the young man was sitting, only to witness another shifter, a beta, taking some particular interest in him.

Derek grit his teeth, even as he wondered why in the hell he was feeling all jealous and possessive over somebody he didn't even know.

He leaned over the bar again. “Another round?”

The beta sitting with the man turned to him. “I’ll have a Heineken draft, and whatever Stiles is having.” The beta said as he smiled at the young man. Who was presumably named _Stiles._

That couldn't be an actual name. The guy was obviously using a fake name.

“Oh, and two shots of tequila!” The beta shouted to Derek.

Derek glanced over at Stiles, noticing how the guy gave a subtle shake of his head. So he made the second drink for Stiles, and poured a beer for that beta douche, banding it the them before he went to prepare the shots. He gave the beta a shot of tequila silver, and poured Stiles a shot of water instead.

When he handed them the shots, it didn't escape his notice that Stiles sniffed at the clear concoction in the shot glass, before giving Derek a grateful look, before downing the shot, putting on an act as if it were some strong tequila.The beta bought it.

Derek moved onto his duties, serving drinks, cleaning glasses, but his attention kept drifting back to Stiles sitting at the bar. The beta was getting very, very close to him, running his hands over the young human’s back, whispering in his ear. Whatever he said had made Stiles blush. And made Derek’s hackles rise.

He tamped it down. _Not my business!_

Though, he kept finding his way back to where Stiles sat, especially when the beta began nuzzling at Stiles’ neck, lightly grazing his teeth over the man’s scent glands and forcibly drawing out more of Stiles’ preheat scent.

Stiles cast an uncomfortable look at Derek when he strode by, which solidified Derek’s decision to interfere.

He reached for Stiles’ half empty drink, purposefully fumbling and making it look like an accident when it spilled onto Stiles’ white shirt, the bright pink of the grenadine staining it.

“Dude, what the hell?!”

“Oh no!” Derek exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! Let me help you clean that up. I think I have some stain remover in the employee lounge, it will get that stain right out.”

With a suspicious look, Stiles climbed off of the stool, following as Derek told the others he was taking five as he motioned for Stiles to follow him to the where the doors to the bathrooms and the employee lounge was.  

Derek grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the breakroom.

“Hey!” Stiles said, yanking his elbow out of Derek’s reach. “Get your hand off me!”

“Haha! Oh, do you mean to tell me that you don't like it when a stranger paws at you? Could have fooled me.” Derek growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Stiles’ nostrils flared and his jaw set. “None of you damned business!”

“It’s my business when I’m the one watching a virgin omega, about to go into heat, throw himself at strangers.”

Stiles laughed. “Pfft, what? Have you been keeping tabs on me? I can't go out and have a little fun with people in a club? What are you, my father?”

“That’s not it. I’m sure you know what kind of place this is. I just don't get it. Any alpha here can scent you, kid. Me included. You don't belong in a place like this. Lose the v-card, then come back when you aren't about to go into a fucking heat.” Derek suggested.

Stiles's teeth ground. Clearly, Derek had offended him, but that wasn't his intent. He felt a protective surge towards this young man, for some strange reason.

“It’s really none of your business, asshole! Your opinion, or concern or whatever, is neither necessary, nor appreciated. Certainly not enough to warrant ruining my favorite shirt.” Stiles pulled the hem of his shirt, frowning at the pink stain.

“Sorry…” Derek muttered.

“It was a gift.” Stiles said.

Derek grabbed the stain remover and squatted down in front of Stiles, using some wet paper towels to blot the stain gel onto the spot. He reached his other hand under Stiles’ shirt so he would have something to press against. “I’m really sorry about this. And I’m sorry about what I said about you coming here in preheat...It just, it didn't seem like you really wanted that guy all over you. I thought you might want an excuse to escape the hungry wolf.”

Stiles sighed. “Heh...whatever…I should just go home anyway. That first drink you made was pretty strong. I shouldn't have had another. My head is splitting now.”

Derek tried not to shiver at the sound of Stiles’ gentle voice. “You have to let this stuff sit for like, 15 minutes before you wash it off. But it should work, since we caught it quickly.” Derek rambled.

Stiles looked down at him. _God,_ he was adorable.

“Okay.”

As Derek removed his hand from under Stiles’ shirt, the backs of his knuckles brushed against the skin of his abdomen, and Derek heard Stiles’ breath hitch. At the same time, all of the blood in Derek’s body shown down to his groin and his brain went a little fuzzy. His words got mixed around when he tried to speak again.

He appraised Stiles anew...lust, like he’d never known in his life, surged through him.

“Thanks.” Stiles breathed, pulling at the hem of his shirt to keep the wet spot away from his skin.

As the shirttail flapped, Derek caught of glimpse of the light brown happy trail leading down past the waistband of his pants. And Derek wanted to follow that trail with his tongue…

Derek’s mouth opened, and dumped out the remaining shreds of his pride he may have had before entering the breakroom. “I got you. I mean, I don't _have you,_ I-heh...what I meant was, I _got_ you. The-the stain. It’s on. N-not like it's _on!_ T-the stain stuff is on...the stain.” Derek stammered, going for gold in the shut the fuck up olympics. “Jesus Christ…” Derek exhaled. “My mouth isnt working right.”

Stiles’ Lips quirked.

“I, uh, better get back to the bar. To tend bar...at the bar-heh! Uh..”

Stiles was clearly trying very hard not to laugh, and failing. “Dude, are you drunk?”

“Wh-NO! No. I just gotta, ya know. But you’re welcome to wait here for me. N-not for _me!_ Like, you’re welcome to wait though. It’s completely fine. For the stain and all…”

Stiles snorted. “Okay...well, you better get back to the bar then, to tend bar, at the bar.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Derek backed up, bumping into the doorframe as he went. “Right, well, see you later!”

His face flamed as he returned to work, Stiles’ chuckle following him down the hallway.

 _Fuck!_ Derek wanted to bang his head against the bartop. He’d never gotten tongue tied like that before, even around an omega in heat! Yet, something about that guy, Stiles, made him... _want._ He tried to justify it as the rut instincts taking over. But even during his rut, and even when he’d been with an omega in head during the time, he’d never acted like such a bewildered moron.

Though, when Derek made it back to the break room after his shift was over, Stiles was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

“What the hell, Stiles?” Scott scolded as he drove Stiles’ jeep down the dark, empty rode back to Beacon Hills. “I turn my back on you for two minutes, and you just disappear!”

Stiles fixed him with an incredulous expression. “What are you talking about? You bailed to go talk to that fox shifter!” Stiles pouted, looking out the window. “Some friends you are!”

“Well I wasn't aware I needed to babysit you.” Danny grumbled. 

Scott glared at him in the rearview mirror, before looking back at the road. “I watched over you the entire time.” Scott argued. “I saw you sitting at the bar, saw that wolf shifter of a bartender serve you some girly drink, then saw that other shifter groping you. I turn away for minute to excuse myself, and you’re gone! Where the hell did you run off to? Because that handsy shifter was alone when I looked back.”

Stiles wasn't surprised at Scott’s attentiveness, but he was a bit taken aback by how much his friend had noticed. Scott had always been protective over him, since they were kids, but his wolfy instincts, not to mention his alpha instincts, had made him even more so. Sometimes it grated, and sometimes Stiles was grateful for it. Right now? He wasn't sure how he felt. 

“The bartender got some grenadine on my shirt and helped me get the stain out. That's all.” Though, Stiles replayed the scenario in his head, and wished that something a lot more enticing had transpired…

“So…” Danny began, much to Stiles’ chagrin. “That bartender, huh? He was pretty hot too.”

Scott hummed in acknowledgement. He wasn't gay, but he recognized an attractive alpha when he saw them.

Stiles huffed. “Yeah he was fucking hot! And an alpha, and a shifter and did this whole awkward tongue tied thing which was so cute and...ugh!” Stiles writhed in his seat. Yeah, so the alcohol in his system had made him more loose, and apparently more animated than he already was. “Fuck, you should have seen him! All nervous, but at the same time all broody and he seemed jealous of the other shifter too who was ‘pawing at me’, as he said.”

Danny and Scott shared a look.

“What?” Stiles inquired 

“So...I assume you found your manmeat for your heat?” Danny asked.

Stiles blushed. But he had to admit, there had been some serious chemistry there. Just the feeling of the backs of his knuckles brushing against his tummy had made him hot. Call it heat, or his libido going into overdrive. Whatever the case, there was something there. And he wanted more of that whatever the hell it was. 

“If only I knew his name…” Stiles muttered.

“You didn't get his name?” Scott asked. “Does he even work in the club as a...ya know…”

“I don't know!” Stiles snapped. “You two dragged me out of there before I could find out!” Stiles decided to pout again. Sometimes his friends really did suck. Yeah he loved them and they were awesome and protective and blah, blah blah. But, at times like these, they were serious cock blockers. “I’ll have to go back and find out…” He had maybe three days before his heat began. He’d figure it before then.

*

The next day, Derek was allowed to sleep in, as Isaac arranged. And thank God for Isaac, because the way Derek was feeling this morning, he’d likely rip another alpha’s head off if he had to go to the gym with them. Ruts made him territorial, and often times, violent when he thought that his dominance was being threatened. 

What made him  _ especially  _ on edge, was the thought of that omega coming into the club the night before…

He had been so...Derek couldn't explain it.  _ Vulnerable? Snarky? Hot as hell and smelled like the best thing that had ever entered my nostrils- _ And what the fuck was he doing?! 

Just the thought of that omega had him rutting into his mattress.  _ Fuck... _ His rut was here, he could feel it. Could feel it in the swelling of his cock and the heaviness of his balls, over abundant with seed and the tightness around the base of his dick where his knot wanted to pop and swell and lock inside a tight hole so he could breed him and claim and-

A swift knock on Derek’s door jolted him back to reality, and when Isaac entered, the beta wrinkled his nose briefly. 

“Jesus…” Isaac complained. “I’ve never scented your rut so strongly before.” Isaac cocked his head at Derek, who was still lying in his bed and clutching his pillow to his face. “It’s almost noon, Derek…” Isaac said cautiously. He took a cautious step towards the door in case Derek decided to lunge for him. He wasn't an omega, but the beginnings of a rut made an alpha crazed. 

“Omega…” Derek groaned. “His scent…” Derek wanted it. Wanted it  _ bad.  _ He wouldn't be satisfied, he knew this. Not until he knotted that boy and bred on him and made him his.

He didn't realise Isaac was speaking until something clacked on the bedside table. It was his knot-guard; a metal band he’d secure around his cock while he was in rut, to prevent him from knotting those who didn't pay for that service. “-Your first client is in twenty minutes.” Isaac said. “Take a cold shower, reign in your control and put this on, as protocol, Derek.” Isaacs voice was more stern than normal with Derek. It always was when Derek hit the rut. Gentle coaxing wouldn't work at times like this. 

But Derek growled at him all the same, and it made Isaac flee the room. 

Derek took Isaac up on his advice and took a cold shower, after another ten minutes of fucking his mattress without an relief from his ache, and once his dick was soft enough, slid on the metal band and locked it into place to prevent his knot from inflating. God, how he hated this thing!

True to his word, a couple of minutes later, his first client was there to see him. Isaac made sure that Derek was calm enough and that the knot guard was secure before letting his first client in. 

Derek’s mind was blank as he fucked them, only focused on his own pleasure mingled with the irritation of being unable to knot like he so badly needed to. But every so often, the image of messy brown hair and shining amber eyes would flash in his vision, renewing his vigor. Which his patrons couldn't get enough of, and helped him get through the next several hours of clients he’d been booked to service.

.

Derek didn't know what time it was, but he’d had a reprieve between clients and had been given a couple of hours to rest. Time and place and what and why were all fuzzy concepts in his head. His dick was free from the binding at the moment, and given by the lack of satisfaction, and lack of another person still in his bed, he hadn't knotted anyone yet. 

With a groan, Derek sat up, looked over at the clock on his nightstand. It was past 10PM. He sat up with a curse. He’s sure he showered between clients, but he felt dirty all the same. He always did during his rut. He fucked people he couldn't remember or care about, and was so caught up in lust and need to plant his seed that the people he fucked left happy and sated, but Derek never was. He hadn't been sated in years. 

The  _ more  _ he wanted weighed on him. The desire for a mate he could never have, and he fisted his unrelenting cock as he showered off the remnants of any scent that lingered on him. He hated it. The scents weren’t his mate. He wanted his mate. He needed his mate-

Derek stilled his movements upon realizing he didn't  _ have  _ a mate. So why this need to be with the non-existent? 

Ignoring the gut wrenching anxiety that slowly settled in his stomach, he dried off and slipped on a clean pair of sweatpants. He didn't remember the last client he’d fucked, or when his next appointment was, but he wanted to be ready so Isaac wouldn't have to get him to rights again. He wasn't shy of his nudity, but he also wasn't a fan of being coddled.

After another ten minutes of lying in bed, on his clean sheets that Isaac had changed for him at some point, a spicey-clean-sweet-pure scent tickled his nostrils. 

Derek hardened almost instantly, painfully so, and he gripped his dick through his pants, trying to adjust himself. He thought he was imagining the scent. He’d been fantasizing about the omega boy all day, why wouldn't he imagine his scent as well? 

But then he heard voices. Hoots and hollers, and the scent became stronger. 

Derek sat up, breathing in deeply to taste the air-

**Yours. Claim. Take.**

His instincts bombarded his mind.  _ Stiles… _

The omega boy was here!

Derek stumbled from his bed. 

_ He’s here!  _ **Claim him. Show him who owns his body. Breed him full.**

The raucous in the halls of the brothel was loud, the scents filled with lust, excitement, anticipation, all for an omega- **Heat. He’s in heat. Take what is yours. Claim his innocence** -a virgin omega.  _ Stiles! _

As he made his way through the halls, he realized, slowly, what the young man was actually here for;  _ Omega in heat. Wants to be fucked.  _ But he clearly didn't care who fucked him! Which made Derek grind his teeth. Didn't that idiot know how valuable he was? 

Omegas were held in the highest regard. They could both breed, and be bred. Their rectum was actually a cloaca, which served as a depository as well as a birth canal. They were an evolutionary masterpiece. And what they lacked in strength, they made up in lightning quick reflexes and an inherently quick wit. Omegas were the ones who would go on to shape the future of the world with their knack for absorbing information and utilizing their immense brainpower.  Which was why they weren't sex slaves like alphas. Alphas werent dumb, though evolution has favored the omega dynamic when it came to this particular century.

Way back, when men and women were all living in caves, alphas were the most superior because they had the strength and capability to hunt game, protect their pack and provide. 

In  _ this  _ century, one had to be smart in order to get ahead in life. And omega held the highest success rate when it came to schooling.

But clearly, not in street smarts. Because an omega in heat was  _ here!  _ Amongst alphas both human and shifter and he was here to fuck someone and didn't care who, apparently.

Which made Derek’s rage boil over. He stormed towards the direction of the omegas scent. 

*

Stiles heat had hit that next morning after the sexy bartender had spilled the drink on him. At first, Stiles thought that he was kind of a douchebag. Albeit an incredibly  _ hot  _ douche bag, but a douchebag all the same.

But when he had briefly touched him, that featherlight brushing of knuckles on his skin, electricity sparked between them. Stiles had been trapped in a fuzzy haze, until the alpha began babbling and tripping all over his own words. And Stiles couldn't help but laugh at him. Stiles was usually the one who'd flail and succumb to word vomit. The fact that the big, handsome, broody alpha had gotten flustered over Stiles, had helped Stiles make his decision; If he was going to cash in his v-card this heat, he wanted  _ that _ alpha to show him the ropes.

Now, the issue of Stiles having not gotten the alphas name, or if he was  _ more _ than a bartender, was a hurdle he had to try and jump.

Clubs, like The Junkyard, were always leary about newcomers. And if a patron wanted to purchase a night with one of their alphas, they had to undergo some serious screening.

Stiles wasn't even sure who he should ask. Or  _ how _ to ask for...that. What was he supposed to say? _ "Hey so I want to buy a night with one of your alphas!" _ It all sounded so...skeevy. And it was, Stiles supposed. They were sex workers after all. And even though Stiles was hoping that the bartender was a sex worker, another part of him kind of hoped he wasn't. The sex workers here were all slaves, and slaves usually became slaves by force. Which made Stiles feel a bit sad…

But, despite the darkness of this industry, Stiles was going to go for it. Just this once.

He went back to the club a bit earlier that night, before the place got too packed and began his search for the alpha. There was another alpha behind the bar, blond, blue eyes, not the alpha from the previous night, but maybe he'd know something?

When Stiles asked though, about the bartenders who worked the night before, the alpha simply replied "Sorry, Kid. I can't discuss employee schedules with anyone."

When Stiles *subtly* hinted that he was looking for the alpha for  _ other _ reasons, the bartender leveled his gaze on Stiles and said "You're barking up the wrong tree, boy."

Stiles backed off. He understood why the employees were being so tight lipped about their services. It was illegal, after all. But how the hell was he supposed to go about this?!

Stiles decided to order a drink and sipped from it as he prowled around the club and dancefloor. He kept a sharp eye open, on the lookout for anyone who looked important or entitled.

After Making several laps around the club, and doing his best to ignore the rising needs within his body which were being triggered by the pheromones from the writhing bodies all around, he decided to take a seat at an empty table to gather his thoughts. Though, only a couple of minutes later, Stiles was approached by a scantily dressed, blonde woman. She smiled, almost cheshire like, before taking a seat across from him.

She was hot, Stiles couldn't deny that, but he just wasn't interested in women in that way. He was about to open his mouth to tell her so, when she said "My name is Erica. The owner would like to speak with you about your requests."

Stiles blinked at her, his mouth still hanging open like a dead fish and when he realized this he snapped it shut and cleared his throat. "Erm, uh...yeah? Okay." He said eloquently.

Erica gave him a once over, a little smirk playing on her red lips as she rose from her seat. "Follow me." She purred over her shoulder.

Stiles followed her dumbly, a little disbelieving that he was actually about to go through with this. He was led up a staircase that had security guarding it, and down a dark hallway to an office. Erica rapped her knuckles against it twice before entering.

Inside was a large office, an imposing desk sat in the center with an equally imposing man seated behind it. The man stood upon their entry. "Thank you Erica. You may return to your shift."

Dismissed, Erica left without a word. Stiles turned back to the man, who gave him a tight smile and sat once more. "I'm Peter. And I understand you have been asking around about certain...services, Mr...?"

"Uh-Stiles!" He held his hand out to shake Peters, but Peter ignored it. Stiles awkwardly ran his fingers through his hair.

"Stiles." Peter deadpanned, obviously irritated that he'd been given a supposed fake name. 

"And tell me, Stiles, what and who exactly are you here for?"

Stiles felt nervous suddenly. He didn't know if he was being framed or not. This entire situation was making him feel dangerously on edge. So Stiles skirted the question. "I was just looking for a bartender who was working here last night...He, um, helped me get a stain out of my shirt? I just wanted to thank him. I didn't catch his name."

Peter steepled his fingers, staring at Stiles until he began to squirm a bit under the scrutiny. "So let me get this straight," Peter finally said. "You came all the way out here, this late at night, alone, and in heat"- Stiles blushed furiously at the last part - "just so you can thank a random bartender for getting a stain out of your shirt?"

"...yes?" Stiles held his breath and tried to school his features into a serious expression.

After a few moments of Peter and Stiles just staring silently at one another, Peter cracked first and snorted out a laugh. "Heh, you've got balls kid, I'll give you that."

Stiles released the breath he'd been holding and let out a nervous laugh as well. Remembering himself, Stiles said "I've been referred by Lydia Martin." Lydia had told him to drop her name when he got in contact with the owner. The name drop should gain him access.

It must have worked because Peter became serious once more. "Lydia? How do you know Lydia?"

"We've been friends for a long time." Stiles shrugged.

Peter hummed. “Hmm. So tell me, Stiles, if you’re truly friends with Lydia, and she truly referred you here, then I’m sure you have something for me.”

_ Bingo!  _ Stiles thought. This man was definitely the owner then and could gain him access. Only the owner knew their was a proffered item for each referral. “You mean this?” Stiles said with confidence as he pulled a weighty, black metal keycard from his wallet. He wasn't exactly sure what it was. It was heavier than any hotel key card and had a strange, shiny blue symbol on it that seemed to glow. But it was meant to gain him access into the exclusive side of this club and that’s all he cared about. Lydia had been dodgy with the explanation of it.

Peter took the card from Stiles’ palm, inspecting it, then smiled at him lasciviously. It kind of creeped Stiles out. “Welcome to The Junkyard.” Peter stood and motioned for Stiles to follow him. They meandered down the corridor as Peter asked “So, what interests you so much in our alphas?”

Stiles didn't have any desire to get personal with this man. So he said “Actually, I’m just interested in the one. He was working the bar last night. Dark hair, green eyes?”

Peter slowed and glanced over at him. “You’re talking about Wolf?”

Stiles blinked at him. “Wolf?”

Peter chuckled. “We have an alpha wolf shifter working for us here. If you’re talking about him, I doubt you can afford a night with him. He’s our most popular alpha and he’s currently in rut, so his schedule is booked.” Peter directed him to another flight of stairs leading to a third floor. “His rates are incredibly high during a rut. But there are many other alphas here who would love to assist you in your heat.”

Stiles bristled a bit. What did this man think he was, some sort of peasant? “How much is a night with Wolf?”

Peter eyed him. “$3000 if you want him to knot you. That’s the rate for the entire night and the appointment must be made in advance. During rut, without knotting is $1500. Regular rates are $700.” 

Stiles blanched. Holy shit! His heart fell at the knowledge. There was no way he could afford a night with the alpha. Even if he waited until he was no longer in rut. But then Stiles would no longer be in heat and the entire point of doing this would be moot. Was he really willing to settle? 

“Come,” Peter indicated a dark, wood polished door, unlocking it with a black keycard, similar to the one Stiles had given him, before pushing it open. “Our alphas are through here. Maybe once you see them you can make your selection.”

The scents that hit Stiles nearly knocked him on his ass. If he thought that the pheromones downstairs in the club were potent,  _ this... _ this was…

A low pitched keen vibrated it’s way out of his throat as he began to salivate. He swallowed thickly as he stepped past the threshold, all the while with Peter eyeing him hotly. Oh, the man fucking knew the effect this alpha den was having on him.

Stiles was pretty sure he’d be allowing one of these alphas to take him tonight. Even if it wasn't the alpha he truly wanted. 

He made his way down the long hall, eyeing alphas who had come out of their rooms, lured by the scent of an omega in heat. They growled and eyed him with interest, catcalled him and tried to coax him into their dens. But none of them dare touched. Not with Peter escorting him. Stiles’ blood raced and pounded in his ears as his mind and body absorbed the sights and scents of these alphas all vying for his attention. One in particular caught his eye. He had dark hair and eyes, he looked a little like Wolf, though he didn't have as strong of features or those mesmerizing eyes, but his arrogance was captivating. He was one of the more dominant alphas, and the man knew it. Which was what Stiles was seeking. 

Though, when he briefly stopped in front of the alphas door, Stiles heard a commotion coming from further down the hall. Every head snapped in that direction, and Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. 

*

When Derek caught sight of the omega, standing there at the doorway of another alpha's den and looking more appealing than ever, Derek’s vision went red. Rational thought all but left his mind as he stalked down the hallway. And when Stiles caught sight of him, his ears began ringing and all his alpha reared its head, zeroing in on the boy with a single minded determination.  **_Get him away from the others! He’s ours! Nobody takes what’s ours!_ **

He must have been channeling all of his ferocity because he faintly registered the other yelling at him to stop, others tried to grab at him but he never slowed his stride as he batted their grabby hands away. 

When he drew closer to the boy, all wide eyed, pupils dilated to the size of dimes and his cheeks flushed, Derek hurried his pace. Especially when he spotted Peter -that fucker!- moving to block his path and try to get the omega away from him. 

Derek leaped forward, capturing the omega around the bicep and hauling him closer to him. 

“Wolf!” He heard Peter shout at him. But when Derek ignored him, Peter grabbed Stiles as well, trying to separate the alpha from what was _ his. _

Derek bared his elongating fangs and let a roar rip from his chest, so loud that it startled the other man enough to let go of the omega. Having been allotted that short window of opportunity, Derek gathered Stiles into his arms and hurry towards the direction of his own den.

The omega clung to him, wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face in his shoulder, and Derek nearly groaned from the rightness of it, from how damn good it felt having the boy's lithe body in his arms and willingly letting Derek take him away. 

Other alphas were still trying to intervene, the ones that were too stupid to realise that separating an alpha in rut away from their omega in heat, would likely get them killed. 

“Derek, stop!” Someone shouted. 

“You can't just take him!” said another when they tried to block their path.

Before Derek could rend the other alphas head from his body, Stiles turned on the other alpha and let out a feral growl of his own. “Fuck off!” The omega shouted at him. “He’s mine! I want him!” 

Derek wanted to howl with pleasure at hearing those words, but all he dd was sneer menacingly at the alpha intervening. Realization must have finally dawned on the other man, because he went a bit pale, and when Derek rushed him, he cowed and backed the hell off. 

It had all happened in probably under a couple of minutes, but it seemed to take an eternity for Derek to reach his quarters. Once he did, he quickly pushed the omega off of him, sending him sprawling onto the carpet before turning to quickly bar the door shut. There was no lock on the inside, and could only be locked from the outside and swung inward. It was meant to keep  _ him in,  _ not to keep someone else  _ out.  _

Mustering all of his strength, he crushed the door handle in his grip, removing it and the metal bar which goes through the door so that the handle on the other side wasn't connected to anything and when turned, the door won't open. But just to be safe, he wedged his bedside table against it. It wouldn't keep anyone out forever, logically he knew this, but it would buy him time. And if the others were smart, they wouldn't intervene for a while. Not if they valued their lives. 

Derek took a moment to steady himself, the adrenaline coursing through him making him light headed.  _ What the fuck have I just done?  _ He was going to be punished for that outburst, severely, which sobered him and helped him reign in his instincts and his wolf. But at least he’d gotten the omega into the relative safety of his room.  _ But really...how safe is he with me right now? _ Especially with that sweet-spicy scent cloying at him and feeling his room with it. 

He turned to face the omega again, who was standing now, breaths heaving and making his chest rise and fall. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. The omega sensed it too, the turmoil running through him. “Holy shit.” Stiles breathed. “What just happened?”

Remembering exactly  _ why  _ Stiles was here in the first place, Derek came at him, causing the omega to stumble back until the backs of his thighs hit the side of the bed and he plopped down. 

The omega’s eyes were a bit wild, but there was no fear there.  _ He should be afraid! _

“What the hell are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek grated, looming over the omega, feeling very much like a predator who’d just captured his prey.  _ Aren't I though?  _ Now that his mind was a bit more clear, he wanted answers. 

The omega swallowed again, and Derek heard his heart speed up. He was nervous. Good. Because Derek was  _ pissed.  _ “Did Peter force you up here?!”

Stiles blanched at that, shaking his head. 

“So you came here, of your own free will!” Derek scrubbed a palm down his face. “What the hell are you thinking?! This is no place for you! How did you even get access up here?”

Stiles licked his lip, and Derek wanted to chase that tongue with his own, but he stopped himself when Stiles spoke. “I-I know a guy who knows a guy?” 

Derek glared. 

“I just...I wanted…” He trailed off. 

“Wanted  _ what?”  _ Derek growled. “Wanted someone to fuck you that badly?! Jesus, you’re way over your head, aren't you? You’re a fucking virgin! You’re in heat and you come  _ here?”  _ Stiles face bloomed several shades of red, but Derek was incessant. He leaned closer until they were nearly nose to nose. “Do you have any idea what you do those alphas out there, what you’re doing to  _ me?  _ I could tear you apart,  _ any  _ of these alphas would kill for a chance to wreck you! Is that what you want?”

Stiles’ breathy sounds were riling him up, Derek wasn't sure how much longer he had until his control slipped. 

“You won't hurt me.” Stiles whispered, with such certainty, that Derek’s brows rose. “I just...didn't want to be alone again. I just wanted to know what it felt like...to have somebody want me.” There was such a sadness in the boy’s eyes, a loneliness he hadn't seen there before. But why? Stiles was an attractive guy, he couldn't have anybody he wanted. So why pay for it?

“I came here tonight looking for you…” Stiles continued. “When I met you while you were bartending, I just thought...there was something there?”

Derek growled again, low this time, in more agitation than threatening. His possessiveness over this omega was creeping back in on him. “But instead, you settle for that second rate alpha down the hall?” Derek wanted to go back out there and kill the other alpha for garnishing even an inkling of his omegas interest.

Stiles at least had the grace to look ashamed. “I couldn't afford your rates…” His voice was barely audible as he cast his eyes downward. 

“I don't get it,” Derek shook his head. “You shouldn't have to pay for it at all! I mean, look at you!”

That got Stiles to look back at him, uncertainty painting his features before turning to irritation. “I wasn't looking for a mate.” Stiles said. “And my life is complicated right now, so dating isn't exactly an option! And the alphas I  _ have  _ dated lose interest pretty quickly and so, once again, I’m stuck on my own during heats. And it sucks! I'm frustrated and...and…” Stiles flopped onto his back on the bed, letting out a groan. “Fuck, I just need it so  _ bad!  _ Then I saw you and…” Stiles trailed off, covering his face with his hands to hide his embarrassment. “God, this was a stupid idea.”

Even as the words left Stiles’ lips, a wave of pheromones washed over Derek, causing his nostrils to flare and his mouth to salivate. It was starting, the point of no return where Stiles would be a slave to instinct and overcome with the need to be mated. And Derek would be damned before he let Stiles leave this room now and let another alpha touch him. 

**_He’s ours!_ ** His wolf growled, and Derek could only agree.  _ Fuck Peter, fuck the rules and fuck the costs!  _ He’d endure whatever punishment he’d have to endure if it meant he got to spend one night with his omega. To be his first, which nearly made him reel. The last time he was with a virgin, was when he  _ was _ a virgin. And never with a  _ male  _ virgin. He needed this omega to know exactly what he was getting himself into.

“Stiles…” Derek prompted, removing his hands from his face. When the omega looked at him again, his eyes were glassy and hooded, dark and soulful and practically  _ begging  _ him to take him. But he needed to hear it out loud. “Are you sure you want this? Because once I start I won't be able to-”

“Yes!” Stiles gasped out before Derek could finish his sentence, and then Stiles’ hands were in his hair, pulling him down and crushing their lips together. 

Derek froze, about to say something about the no kissing rule, but at the small, pleased noise Stiles made against his mouth, Derek slid his eyes closed and gave himself over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to update! I wasn't sure if this was going to be well received but it seem like a lot of you enjoyed it, so yay! I shall continue!
> 
> I'm a slut for your feedback so don't be shy ;)
> 
> I'll try to get the next chapter up quickly for you all. Hopefully this chapter didn't disappoint... 
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> So, since the last chapter took so long to upload, I wanted to get the next update up faster since there has been such great feedback and support. Thank you all for that!
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

When Wolf, or _Derek_ as some had called him, came barreling at him, swooping him up and fighting his way to his den, Stiles half expected him to be tossed to the bed and ravished. At least, that’s what his heat addled brain was anticipating, which only caused him to go hurtling towards the time where his heat took him over completely. He felt it in his skin, his bones, his sinew and every nerve ending that it was right there on the razor's edge Stiles was dancing on. All it would take was a stiff breeze to send him toppling into the agonizing abyss, and damn if he didn't want to pull Derek down with him.

But then, the broody alpha wanted to _talk?! What the fuck?_ Which made him feel incredibly self conscious and foolish. Because even though Derek was in rut, and hard beneath his sweatpants ( no way _that_ was going unnoticed), he still wanted to yammer on and give Stiles a lecture about virtue or whatever. And Stiles found it a bit ironic, how this prostitute was trying to give him a lesson in self preservation. But then remembered that this alpha was a slave. His own worth had been stripped from him, and clearly held Stiles to a higher regard.

Which both warmed him and made his heart clench. Despite being a rut, and a whore, the alpha cared enough about him-a stranger, and an omega in heat-to give him the option of backing out from this crazy idea. Which made Stiles definitely _not_ want to back out, not if he could have this alpha.

The thought of it, as woefully inexperienced as he was, nearly had him instinctively presenting for the man, until he had gotten in his face and continued talking, which only made Stiles focus more of the man’s mouth and white teeth with the two front ones slightly bigger and Stiles found it incredibly endearing, instead of the actual words the man was saying.

Until some of the words stood out enough to make Stiles feel a little ashamed, like he didn't value himself or something. Because he _did_ , and it irritated him that going after what he wanted was seen wrong by everyone. He’d gone into this with the hopes that it wouldn't complicate anything. Get in, get off, get out. But it had become complicated the moment Derek had spotted him. And he found himself explaining exactly why he’d opted for a brothel instead of dating in the first place. Which sucked, admitting to these beautiful alpha that he couldn't seem to hold onto a normal relationship.

He thought for a moment, as he lay there with his hands covering his burning face, that Derek was going to make him leave. Which he _should_ do. Stiles couldn't afford to have this alpha for the night and he was a hairs trigger away from begging.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice pulled him from his thoughts at the same time he was pulling his hands away. The alpha wanted to see his face, and he let him. Let him see everything he wanted and hoped it showed in his expression just how very _close_ he was to losing himself. “Are you sure you want this? Because once I start I won't be able to-”

“Yes!” Stiles blurted in an embarrassingly throaty voice, but he didn't care. Stiles wasn't one to pine over somebody, but shit, he wanted him and that was all the consent that was needed. And the knowledge that this was actually going to happen, had him boldly yanking the alpha down to kiss him, to get this started.

The alpha stiffened, and for a second Stiles was worried he’d accidently bitten him or something with his clumsy attempt at seduction, and attempted a purring noise to sooth him as well as apologize because yeah...he didn't get to make out often, if ever. He probably sucked at this but when he felt Derek relax, Stiles sweat with relief and melted beneath him.

Derek parted his lips on a sigh, bringing his hands up to grip Stiles’ hips and push him further up the bed so he fully lying down, and when Derek followed him, without breaking the kiss and settled between his spread thighs, it was enough to send him spiraling over that proverbial edge.

Heat consumed him then, starting low in his belly and spreading like wildfire from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. Which were still in shoes. He wiggled to try to kick them off, which got Derek to pull away. “Nng-” Stiles moaned a complaint, which was caught in his throat when he saw the alpha’s eyes were glowing, a deep ruby red in the darkness that pinned him to the mattress.

Derek sat back on his haunches, _staring_ at him in such a way that made Stiles feel a little in over his head with how _feral_ this man looked. And it called to the baser, more wild instincts within himself. _My alpha..._ The thought entered his mind, unbidden. But once he thought it, it unnervingly lodged itself in there, because _seriously? MY alpha?_ He liked it a little too much for his own good. _This is dangerous._ But he didn't want it to stop.

Derek slid backwards off the bed with an animal-like grace, swiftly removing Stiles’ shoes for him one at a time. Stiles was rapt to the view. The resounding _thunk_ of his shoes hitting the floor, however, snapped him out of his reverie. _Faster. Need clothes off faster!_ He was already perspiring with the rising body temperature to the point where his skin glistened. And his clothing was suddenly way too rough on his skin.

He hurriedly reached for his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, raising his hips to slide his jeans over his ass and down his legs, where he so gracefully tried to kick them off and almost kicking Derek in the process.

Derek caught his ankles in his strong grip, yanking him free of the jeans in one smooth motion. Stiles gasped, sitting up to immediately remove his shirt, but Derek's fingers were already there, pulling at the fabric until it nearly tore and then Derek’s lips were back on his again, much hungrier than the first kiss which had Stiles panted through his nose as he reached for the waistband of Derek’s sweatpants.

The alpha’s stomach muscles jumped against the backs of Stiles’ knuckles, making him grin against his mouth, making him want to run his hands all over that golden skin and feel the hair rasp under the pads of his fingers. Everything felt so much more... _more._ Every breath they breathed, his scent making Stiles want to taste it’s source, his skin was practically buzzing with sensation and he wanted _more._

He dipped his hand down past Derek’s waistband, rasping through the trim hair leading to his... _oh!_ Stiles broke the kiss, wanting to see, because the fact that he couldn't completely close his hand around Derek’s girth was giving Stiles all kinds of horrific mental images.

He pulled the alpha’s cock free from it’s confines, blinking rapidly. _“Wow…”_ He breathed. He’d heard alpha males were hung, but _this_ was ridiculous!

Derek must have sensed Stiles’ trepidation, because he reached to cup his face and tilt his head back to meet his red eyes. “It’ll be fine.” He said softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Stiles swallowed nervously, but gave the alpha’s dick a tentative stroke.

Derek hissed in a breath, before saying “I won't last if you keep touching me. And I’m barely in control as it is.”

Stiles wasn't sure if that was meant to be a bad thing or not, but it only made him grow slick and his ass clenched at the thought of having this massive length up inside him.

Derek pushed Stiles to lay back down as he worked on divesting the omega from the rest of his clothing. Stiles bit his lip, suddenly feeling shy, but Derek’s gaze only grew hotter as his eyes roamed over his body. He wasn't as ripped with muscle as Derek, but he worked out regularly to stay healthy, and preened at the fact that his body was being openly appreciated by this gorgeous alpha.

Derek gave Stiles an appreciative growl that made Stiles’ toes curl, then ran his hand up the omega’s flank. “Lay back on the pillows, I’ll open you up.”

Stiles’ face flamed, but his core clenched in anticipation, causing more slick to flow from him. He rested back on the plethora of pillows as instructed, drawing his knees up and spreading his legs to accompany the alpha now kneeling between them.

Without hesitation, Derek widened Stiles’ legs further, reaching between them to circle pads of his forefinger around his hole.

Stiles tensed, unused to the sensation of having a finger other than his own down there.

“Relax.” Derek grated, looming over him, caging him in, taking his mouth again in a searing kiss. He breached Stiles’ mouth with his tongue at the same moment his finger entered his body.

Stiles mewled, bucked his hips, felt the alpha's cock brush against his thigh, leaving a cool trail of precum in it’s wake. Derek groaned and rubbed against him again, making Stiles shiver.

“You’re so wet…” Derek murmured and bent to nip and lick at his neck. “You smell incredible…”

Stiles was a little nervous, having a werewolf, in rut, teething over his gland, the one a mate would bite to bond them, but he found himself tipping his head back for more, getting lost in the sensation. The finger stroking his insides felt amazing.

Then Derek added another and Stiles clenched around it and whined. It burned a little, but Derek’s low growl in his ear was distracting enough that he was able to manage.

With a crook of his fingers, Derek hit that gland deep inside the omega and Stiles moaned loudly, bucking his hips again and trying to chase those fingers for more of it when Derek began pulling them out. Then the alpha added a third and, ok... _now_ it was starting to hurt.

“Derek-” Stiles gasped.

“Shh…” Derek brushed their lips together again.

This tenderness from the alpha was such a contrast from the feral beast who had whisked him away in the hall earlier. He was a contradiction, one that Stiles’ inquisitive mind wanted to puzzle out. Not right now, though. Now, he needed to be filled. The burning ache had ebbed as Derek continued to work him open, pushing and pulling his fingers in and out, over and over, and Stiles wanted more. The rising heat was making him inpatient.

“Please!” He keened. “Now, alpha. Do it now!”

“You sure you’re ready?” Derek asked.

Stiles groaned his affirmative, grinding down on Derek’s fingers again. He was ready. He was _beyond_ ready. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling, as Derek slipped his fingers out of him. But every time he’d done it, his fingers had knocked against that magical spot where the pleasure was off the charts .Before he knew it, he was being maneuvered, rolled until he was on top of Derek and straddling his hips.

Stiles flailed and stammered “Wh-what are you-”

“It’ll be easier on you,” The alpha explained, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “This way, you can go as fast or as slow as you need to.”

Stiles’ pulse roared in his ears. Despite being in rut, the alpha was giving over control to him, letting him set the pace. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about that. He’d been ready to lay under the alpha, or be on hands and knees, but this? This was not what he’d expected. However, by the way his dick jumped as it strained upward and slick dripped from him to wet the alpha’s lap, his body was all for this idea, despite the pulsing burn in his ass.

He licked his lips nervously, reaching behind himself, he found Derek’s cock. Curling his fingers around it, he used his own slick to lube the massive length. Derek ran his own slick soaked fingers over Stiles’ erection, which was dripping with excitement; excitement of the unknown. He angled the alpha at his rim, but when he braced his hands against Derek’s firm pecs to slide down, he slipped away from his entrance.

Stiles grunted in irritation and looked down at Derek. The alpha’s face held an expression of barely contained lust, with his brows drawn and jaw slack. _God,_ he was sight. “C-can you...can you help me?” Stiles asked.

The alpha’s feature softened. “Of course.”

Stiles tried again and Derek’s hands smoothed over his hips to his cheeks to help spread him apart. At first, Stiles began to tease himself, moving back and forth over it, feeling the way the wide, round head parted his ass as it massaged his hole. He heard a hiss of air and looked back down at Derek, who had squeezed his eyes shut as if the pleasure was too much to bear. And that made Stiles brave.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly released it as he lowered his body down over the alpha’s waiting, hard cock.

The first sensation was the immediate pressure of something so _thick_ trying to penetrate him. But Derek was right, from this angle it was much easier to control how much he could take at a time. Gritting his teeth and placing his palms on Derek’s chest again, Stiles stared at the face below him that was pulled taut, as he continued to slide down onto him.

The second Derek had pushed past that initial tight ring of muscle, Stiles was hit with a _sting_ and _burn_ , far more intense than even the alphas fingers.

“Fuck!” Stiles cried out. The pressure in his ass was unlike anything he’d ever felt. He’d thought being in heat would ebb any pain he might have felt from losing his virginity, but that wasn't the reality of it. His heat cycle made him ache to breed, but it wasn't a painkiller, that much he was learning.

Just as Stiles’ cock was beginning to soften, and he was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't such a good idea, one of Derek’s hands wrapped around his waning erection and started to stroke.

“Breath, omega…” Derek ground out “you feel and look so fucking incredible... _Breath_ …”

Stiles focused on Derek’s face, which even when contorted with his own pain and pleasure, was sexy as hell.

Keeping one hand on his hip while the other stroked Stiles’ cock, Derek groaned loudly; “Nothing has _ever_ felt as good as you...you’re so hot, so wet and tight... _fuuuck…”_

Derek’s words were both dirty and provocative, his scent becoming so palpable he could almost _taste_ it, and as they made their way to Stiles’ heat addled brain, he found that they distracted him from the burn inside him as he continued to lower himself, feeling Derek stretch him wider and wider as he sank in even deeper.

The alpha snarled like a caged animal under him as his hand clasped Stiles’ thigh. He thought he should be afraid, but he wasn't. This was the feral alpha who had rescued him from that hall. _This_ was the alpha he craved…

Stiles closed his eyes, trying to get used to the feeling, trying to get used to being filled. But it was so _foreign,_ and it felt so different, that he didn't think it would ever feel right.

“You’re so fucking big!” Stiles heard himself mewl out.

Derek gave a strained laugh. “Words...no alpha...ever _minds_ hearing.”

Stiles didn't have any smartass comebacks this time as he finally seated himself fully and Derek’s flesh pulsated inside of him.

Stiles remained as still as possible, trying to let his body become used to the invasion. As Stiles stared down at his alpha- _yes, HIS alpha-_ a slow, sensual smile spread across the alpha’s mouth.

Stiles’ eyes dilated further, drinking in every sinew and tight muscle, every drop of perspiration on the man’s perfect body. His prick pulsed and he couldn't help the swift thrust he gave, his instincts driving him now, trying to push him towards... _something._

Just as quickly, Derek’s hand moved to stroke his length as Stiles shifted, and the pleasure he got from it surprised him. It surprised him so much, that he did it again, this time causing a curse to rip from his alpha.

With his palms on Derek’s chest, Stiles slowly raised himself up on his knees, allowing Derek’s cock to slide out a little ways from his body, then he reseated himself. This time, that wide, rigid head of his alpha’s shaft hit his sweet spot...and Stiles’ eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Breathing hard he did it again, a little faster. He raised himself up and then came back down, his body sucking Derek inside, clinging, like it knew what it wanted. _Wolf shifters knot._ Stiles’ brain supplied, but he wasn't afraid of it. He wanted it, the connection. He couldn't explain it, even to himself, but he was all instinct now and that was what was driving his need.

“Oh fuck-Stiles- _fuck!”_ Derek arched his head back against the pillow, and Stiles’ eyes became riveted to the corded tendons on his neck, his mouth watered and he wanted to taste that spot where the amazing scent was emanating from, wanted to suck him there and bite until he drew blood-

Stiles was shaken from that thought as Derek grasped his hips, guiding him to roll them over the cock inside him. The burn had now been replaced by a satisfying ache that Stiles wanted to feel forever. When they’d first started, he’d never imagined how _amazing_ this would feel.

As Derek partially sat up, causing all of his stomach muscles to ripple, Stiles’ erection lurched at the sight. Stiles bent down to nibble at the alpha's neck, drawing more of his scent out, wanting it on him, _in_ him, part of him…

Stiles began to _writhe_ on top of him as Derek lay back down, bringing Stiles with him as the omega continued to suck and bite at his bonding gland.

“Mnn! That's it baby-oh fuck-you’re so..ah...keep doing that!” Derek’s groans and heavy breaths next to his ear spurred Stiles to ride him harder, faster, made him crazed to draw more of the delicious noises from the alpha. The feeling of having such power over this male was heady, and it made him bold. Made him want to show off, to show the alpha he could take him, prove to him that they were-

Derek shifted again, drawing his knees up and planting his feet on the mattress. “I need to move inside you-” Derek gasped. “The way I've been dying to since the first moment I saw you.”

That was all the warning Stiles got. The alpha's control was at an end, Stiles could sense it.

*

Derek was surprised he hadn't already came. _Never_ had sex felt this way... _ever._ Not even when he’d lost his own virginity, not when he’d had his first client. Sex has become so mundane, so mechanical, to the point where he’d cum but never feel real pleasure from it...But _this?_

As soon as Stiles had sunk down on top of him, Derek had begun to count backwards from one hundred. The agonizing pleasure of seeing this omega- _his_ omega-take him into his body was too much!

Stiles was a masterpiece, with his pale skin flushed, his constellation of freckles and little beauty marks dotting his flesh, chest heaving and pink nipples as tight and as straining as his pretty pink cock...Nothing could compare. Nothing would _ever_ compare, ever again.

He knew the risk he was taking, knew, in the back of his mind that could no longer be accessed beyond his overpowering instinct the _claim,_ that consequences awaited him.

But he didn't give a flying fuck.

At first, Derek had thought Stiles was going to back out. He knew it was hurting him, despite his biology, but omega’s were made for this. _Stiles_ was made for this. Made for _him._

And with some gentle coaxing, and a few measured thrusts to the right spot, his omega went _wild._

As Stiles lay down over him, grinding on his dick and sucking and gnawing on the gland that would bind him to the omega if pierced by his teeth, Derek could feel the omega’s body clenching around him. Palming his taught asscheeks, Derek planted his feet again, and as Stiles braced his hands on either side of Derek’s head, the alpha leaned up and bit Stiles’ neck over his gland, though not hard enough to break the skin, as he drove up into him.

Stiles cried out. Derek wasn't sure what his omega was feeling at the moment, but when he released his neck, and their eyes met and Stiles dropped his head, whispering “Again…” Derek just about lost it.

Propelling his hips upward, Derek pulled his omega down, penetrating him deep and hard. Stiles’ neck arched back, and he was about to bite at the smooth column of skin again when Stiles surprised him by sitting up and taking Derek as far inside his body as possible. Slick was coating his thighs, and with a loud curse, Stiles leaned back and placed a palm on the mattress between Derek’s legs, stretching his entire, mouth watering body out for him to look at.

With frenzied eyes, Derek tried to take in _everything,_ wanted this burned into his memory with the underlying, bitter knowledge that he may never see his mate this way again.

_My mate-_

Derek suddenly heard heavy footfalls coming down the hall, the unmistakable boots on carpet of the Alpha Wolf Control Team. He knew they had mere minutes until they’d be intercepted .

He pulled Stiles flush against his body, making his omega whine from his momentary loss of stimulation as he rolled them until Stiles was under him, but then he began a punishing pace.

Stiles yelled his name, but not from pain. Derek scented how close he was, how very much he needed to be taken over. This omega had no idea the effect he had on him, the way he touched him that left his scent all over him, not even aware how strong his own pheromones were, but he’d writhed and rubbed his beautiful body all over Derek and he wanted the scent of him in his bed forever. Wanted this omega forever.

 _He’s our mate-_ Derek realized both his instinct and his wolf were telling him what he’d been trying to suppress, and he drove into Stiles harder, wrapping him in his arms, kissing him desperately…

“Oh yes, Derek! Right there! I’m gonna-”

Derek reached between them as best he could to stroke Stiles, wanting him to cum with him, wanting him to feel the pleasure he’d wrung from him for days after this.

He felt the telltale tingling at the base of his shaft from his knot swelling, and some part of him knew he should ease out before they were locked together, but Stiles wrapped his long, strong legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper and the omega came…

“Oh my god…” Derek groaned, the sounds of those bastards pounding on the door temporarily forgotten as Stiles’ body gripped his cock like a vice, milking his shaft, sucking him even deeper inside, and Derek instinctively shoved into him deeper with a gasp, pushing his knot past that ring of muscle and came deep inside his omega in perfect unison.

 _So perfect..._ Derek thought as he pulsed and thrust gently. Stiles was gasping and squirmed- _oh fuck-_ Stiles was a human! He was hurting him!

He pushed himself onto his hands, not daring to move his hips another inch in case he’d torn his omega. “Stiles!-”

But stiles was moaning, seeming to _like_ it as he writhed on Derek’s knot.

“Holyfuckingshit!” Stiles cried, “You-” Before Stiles could get his words out, he was coming again, hot spurts splattering across his taut belly to join the streaks of his cum already smeared between them.

The sight only made Derek’s cock pulse harder as more and more of his seed spilled into the omega until his balls felt drained and Stiles’ belly felt swollen with his essence.

He took a moment to catch his breath, and in that moment, the door was bursting into splinters.

 _No, no no!_ Derek’s mind screamed, and he covered Stiles with his body to protect him and preserve his modesty the best he could. Not that they were in a modest situation.

 _No, please no! Not yet!_ Derek looked down at Stiles, the omega’s beautiful amber eyes seemed to shine in the soft light of his room, but there was fear there. Stiles had heard the banging as the squad tried to break down the door. To separate them. To take Stiles from him. _But Stiles is MINE!_

“I won't let them hurt you!” Derek rushed out. “I’ll find you. You’re _mine,_ understand?”

Stiles gazed up at him with wide eyes, still panting from their coupling, but his eyes were full of trust, and finally, Stiles nodded.

Right before his door was burst open, Derek swiftly leaned down and sank his fangs into Stiles’ neck, into the gland that would bind his omega to him forever. He tasted the omega’s blood and groaned with renewed pleasure…

But then then nightstand that was propped against the door toppled over, and Derek removed his fangs from Stiles’ neck, swiftly licking the wound to seal it, and turned toward the intruders with a snarl.

It was the squad, just as he’d expected. Their throats, torsos and groins were covered in a thick layer of plating to protect themselves from his attack, helmets hid their faces and they were carrying riot shields.

Derek roared at them, knowing his moment was over, knowing his mate was going to be taken from him.

He heard the metallic click of a trigger being pulled before he could gather his wits, and felt a pinch at the side of his neck. _Fuck!_ He could scent that it was a wolfsbane dart..

“Derek!” Stiles cried, immediately plucking the dart from his skin and tossing it to the ground before running his fingers over the mark it left, then cupped his face.

But it was too late. He could already feel the poison dancing in his veins. “Stiles....” Derek immediately felt drowsy, heavy. He was collapsing, and his limbs weren't cooperating.

Stiles rolled him to his side to avoid being crushed, ripping his knot from his hole but Stiles barely winced and he covered him, blocking him from the intruders with his own body and Derek wanted to protest, he wanted to ask if he was okay. He wanted to protect his omega and not let anybody touch him! But he could barely move.

Derek felt a twinge in his own groin from his knot being separated before it was time, and he knew Stiles would be in agony later. And he would never be able to ease him, never be able to share the next day and comfort him from the experience of being claimed. He still tasted his omega’s blood...Stiles would be reeling once he’d realized what was done to him.

But he could barely move, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and his words came out garbled as he grasped the omega’s hand that was against his cheek, trying to placate him in some way, trying to make him understand why he’d done what he had done to him.

“My...mate…” He slurred, and the last thing he saw was his omega’s eyes widen and his lips moving with unheard words, before his world went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure everyone caught on already, but the * throughout the chapter is the POV change ;)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy the new chapter! And thank you all for the feedback! <3

Stiles fought against the men who’d rushed in, the bastards who’d shot Derek with whatever the hell was in the dart to knock him out cold.

But he wasn't strong enough to escape the men holding him as he was dragged from the room by two of these officers, or whatever they were, while three more stepped in to secure Derek and bind him in cuffs.

“What are you going to do to him?” Stiles demanded. “Leave him alone!” But he pleas were ignored as he was wrapped in some sort of space blanket and carried down the long hall, out the entrance from the dens and down another corridor until they placed him on a bench in some sterile looking room. Then they left him, locking him inside the bright, white room.

There was a small window at the top of the door and Stiles rose to peer out of it, but there was nobody there and the hallway looked empty. Stiles wrapped the shiny blanket around himself, trying to keep in his body heat as he began to shiver from the cold.

He wasn't sure how long he waited there, curled up in the corner in the stark, empty space. But it was long enough for the endorphins from his sex induced high to wear off, and for the aches and pains in his body to become more apparent. His ass ached and burned. He’d thrilled at the feeling of being knotted by the alpha, the pain from it had been an odd mixture of pleasure. But when those assholes had come bursting in, Stiles had reacted without thinking and tore the knot from his body. He knew he had to be bleeding, he could scent a coppery tang mixed with his slick and Derek’s release still in his body…Which...holy shit, he couldn't believe he’d just done all of that bareback! He figured in a place like this, the prostitutes would be regularly tested, but he definitely needed to get tested himself once he got out of this place. _IF I ever get out of this place…_

The other pain he was beginning to feel was the one on his neck. He raised his hand to rub his fingers over it, feeling the unmistakable crescent moon shape of the mark, right over his bonding gland. _He marked me..._ Stiles thought dazedly. _Called me his...mate-_

The loud clang of the door being unlocked snapped him from his thoughts before the door swung open. In stepped a man, maybe in his 30’s, with dark skin and a bald head.

“Hello Stiles,” The man said softly, “My name is Dr. Deaton. I’m going to examine you real quick, alright?”

Stiles shook his head. “Don't touch me! Let me the hell out of here! You guys can't just keep me here, my friends know where I am!”

Deaton's brows drew together. “We aren't going to kidnap you. One of your friends is on their way here to pick you up.” He bent down to be at eye level with Stiles, and the omega narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. He didn't trust this man, even though he seemed genuine enough. But honestly, he couldn't trust _anyone_ right now. “You were bitten by a werewolf, Stiles. I need to examine you, to make sure the bite wasn't intended to turn you.”

Stiles paled. “To _turn_ me?!” Oh god! What if that’s what Derek was trying to do?! What if he’d bitten him, not to claim him, but to change him into a shifter? He could feel a panic attack begin to rise, his breathing becoming more and more shallow as the world spun.

“Whoa now,” Deaton placed his hands on the omega’s shoulders. “Calm down, I don't think that was the alphas intentions. I just need to look, just real quick, alright?”

Still sucking in breaths, Stiles nodded, lowering the space blanket to one side and tilting his head to expose his bitten neck.

Deaton donned a pair of gloves quickly and removed a gauze pad from a first aid kit he’d brought in with him, and gently began cleaning away the blood. At the doctor’s stricken expression as he examined the mark, Stiles nearly burst out into hysterics.

“Oh fuck-am I gonna be turned into a werewolf?! What’s going to happen to me?!”

Deaton shook his head in earnest. “No, Stiles. The bite isn't showing signs of the infection spreading. He didn't bite you to turn you. But...I’m afraid he marked you as his…”

Stiles blinked at him, his heart rate slowing. Because, okay so it wasn't an ideal situation he was in, but he was just glad to hear he wasn't going to be turned into wolf. “Oh…” Was all Stiles said in return.

Deaton gave him a curious look. “You’re taking this rather well.”

“Compared to the alternative?” Stiles countered.

“Well, I can't argue with that.” Deaton rubbed some Neosporin on the wound at his neck. “It’s sealed. The mark is a permanent one. I’m very sorry this happened to you.”

Stiles scowled at him. Because _he_ wasn't sorry. Well, he’s sorry it happened the way it had, and yeah maybe he wasn't ready to bond with anyone, least of all a prostitute and a slave! But...it had happened...and he was surprised to find that he wasn't _that_ upset over it. A lot less upset than anyone in their right mind should be. _Because Derek is...my mate too?_

“Stiles?”

Stiles snapped his attention back to the doctor, realizing that the man had been speaking and he’d completely tuned him out. “Huh?”

“I asked if he did anything else to you. Did he knot you?”

Stiles flushed. “Er, yeah, um...yes.”

Deaton looked troubled and he sighed. “Alright,” He stood, removing his gloves. “I’m unable to do a rape kit here on site, but the urgent care is only a few minutes from here and I can write up a referral to-”

“Wait, what?!” Stiles all but screeched. “That-he-No! No, he didn't _rape_ me!”

Deaton frowned. “So this…” He tapped his own neck, indicating the spot where Stiles was bitten. “You consented to that?”

Stiles bit his lip and wrapped the blanket around himself tighter as he shivered, remembering how he’d felt being taken by Derek, being claimed by his alpha…

“Can I just get my fucking clothes so I can leave?” Stiles snapped.

Deaton picked up his first aid kit. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Then he left, locking the door behind him again.

 _Fuck..._ Stiles inwardly cursed. _This is bad..._ He had a penchant for fucking up, but Stiles had a feeling that he’d really outdone himself this time.

A few minutes later, Deaton returned with some wet wipes and his pants and underwear and a shirt that wasn't his. _Oh yeah, Derek tore my shirt…_

“Clean yourself up and get dressed,” Deaton instructed, his tone level. “Knock on the door when you’re finished.” Then he was gone again.

Stiles hurriedly cleaned himself, wincing a bit from the soreness in his ass. There wasn't as much blood as he’d expected, but it had taken a while to clean up the copious amounts of semen still seeping from his hole, and he felt strangely regretful at the loss. _What the hell is wrong with me?_

He knocked on the door once he was finished and dressed, but the man who opened the door wasn't Deaton. He was an older man, with greyish blonde hair and blue eyes that peered at him with a steely keenness that made Stiles want to cower.

“Follow me.” The man said.

Stiles wanted to tell the man to suck it, but his no nonsense demeanor and authoritative tone made him obey. He was an alpha as well, Stiles realized, but clearly not a slave.

He was led back downstairs and to Peter’s office. The man opened the door for him and ushered him inside, closing the door behind them.

Peter sat behind his desk, looking extremely pissed and channeling all of his own alpha aggression. “Sit.” He commanded.

“If it's all the same, I think I’ll stand.” Stiles said in a bored tone. But the man who’d escorted him here placed his hands on his shoulders and forced him to sit.

Stiles hissed, a fresh wave of pain shooting up his spine from the impact his ass made on the hard wooden chair.

“Wait outside, Chris.” Peter told the only man, who silently left the office upon Peter’s request.

Once they were alone, Peter stared him down, for long moments, eyes harsh and trying to cow him. But Stiles met his gaze head on, trying his best not to waver.

Finally, Peter spoke. “You understand, Stiles, that this situation poses a huge problem.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. “How so?”

Peter glared. “Wolf is my highest grossing alpha. And for some strange reason, he’d fixated on an average, little omega like _you.”_

Stiles grit his teeth. “His name’s _Derek-”_

“And if you’ve ruined my best slave, _omega,_ there will be consequences-”

The door to Peter’s office suddenly burst open, and in walked- _oh dear god, please no-_

“Lydia.” Peter stood immediately upon the young woman’s entry.

“Lydia?!” Stiles blanched.

Lydia placed her hands on her hips, her haughty demeanor commanding everyone's attention. She was a small woman, but every fiber of her was pure alpha, enough to make even Stiles submit to her.

“What the hell is going on here?” She demanded, the question aimed at them both.

“Well,” Stiles began “Peter here was just about to threaten me.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes on him, then at Peter, expecting an answer.

“Actually, I was just educating the omega on the severity of his actions in my club this evening.” Peter sat back down, his confidence once again firmly in place. “One of my alphas has been compromised. We tried to secure Stiles’ safety, but he refused our aid and went willingly with the alpha. As a result, the alpha has claimed him.”

Lydia paled, whipping around to zero her glittering green eyes on Stiles’ neck.

Stiles ducked his head, but said nothing.

“Stiles?” Lydia prompted. “Is this true?”

Stiles’ hands began to shake. He didn't know what to do, what to say, he felt like he was being corned, attacked, like he’d committed the worst crime imaginable and he wanted nothing more than to run away and hide.

Lydia seemed to notice the onset of his impending panic attack, because she placed her hands on his trembled shoulders. “Breath Stiles, everything is ok. Obviously,” She pinned Peter with her gaze “you have been through quite an ordeal.” She was speaking to Stiles, but there was a threatening undertone that was directed at Peter. “You’re in heat, and you had very little control over your actions. It’s not your fault that the alpha took advantage of you.”

Stiles was about to argue this, but Lydia dug her thumbs into his shoulder blades, a silent order to remain silent and let her handle this.

Peter nearly growled. “I knew it was a bad idea letting this kid in here! He fucked my best alpha, now he’s going to be incapacitated because we had to go in and rescue this kid. Do you have any idea what this night has cost us?! Hiring the takedown squad, the door they’d ruined because they had to break it down, and not to mention, Wolf’s rates are three grand while he’s in rut, and he got it for free!”

“So a helpless omega should _pay_ to be raped by your alphas? What kind of place are you running here, Peter? I thought your slaves were more reputable than that.” The constant pressure Lydia was placing with her thumbs made Stiles keep his mouth shut. He wanted to defend Derek so badly, felt compelled to, but at the same time he knew that saying something while Lydia was trying to help him get out of this bind would only result in an even worse situation for everyone. Lydia had vouched for him, after all…

And of course, Peter just had to bring up the Lydia vouching for him part. “You gave him your own membership card to let him in here. I trusted you and because of his presence, he caused damages. He admitted to consent, and there are several witnesses who claim he willingly went with the alpha. Heat or no, he’s liable, and therefore _you_ are liable.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll pay for the damages and the squad that was brought in, but this is not Stiles’ fault.”

“And because you so strongly defend him, I’m revoking your membership,” Peter said, “you won't be getting your card back. And I _never_ want this omega in my club again!”

Lydia tugged Stiles to his feet. “C’mon, let's get out of here.” She said, and they left Peter’s office in a rush and headed out of the club as fast as their feet could carry them.

 

 

As soon as they were both in Lydia’s car and began driving, Lydia really lay it on him. And by laying it on him, he meant she was completely _silent._ Which was way scarier than having her yell at him.

“...Lydia-”

“No.” She cut him off.

Stiles clamped his lips shut, staring down at his wringing hands. After a few minutes of complete silence, Stiles whispered “How am I going to tell my dad…”

Lydia’s face lost the stern expression, taking on an edge of sympathy. “He doesn't have to know.”

Stiles looked over at her, “Oh yeah?” He put his hand over the mark on his neck, feeling it burn. “How am I going to hide this? How am I gonna-oh god-” Stiles’ stomach clenched, a fresh wave of nausea rolling through him.

“Stiles, relax.”

“H-how?” Stiles heaved. “Derek’s a _slave,_ Lydia. He claimed me! I _let_ him claim me! Holy shit, what was I thinking?! This is permanent!”

Lydia pulled over on the shoulder of the darkened street, putting the car in park and unbuckling to reach for him. “Stiles, listen to me. This isn’t your fault.” She cupped his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. Stiles’ own were dilating, his panic finally taking hold of him, and it seemed to be getting worse the further they drove from The Junkyard. “Look at me, Stiles! You were taken advantage of, he claimed you against your will. There are surgeries you can get to remove the scar, or get a neck tattoo? I don't know, but I’ll help you. Even though you went and got my membership revoked, but whatever...the important thing is, we got you out of there.”

Stiles had no idea what kind of mess he’d just gotten himself into, but he could see now that Peter was dangerous.

“It’s true…” Stiles croaked.

Lydia’s brows drew together. “What is?”

“I let him...I...wanted him to.”

Lydia dropped her hands from his face. “Jesus, Stiles...why the hell would you do that?”

Stiles hid his eyes in his hand. “It felt right. It felt like...he _belonged_ to me...and I wanted to belong to him.”

“Oh Stiles…” Lydia looked puzzled for a moment before asking “Then why do you regret it so much?”

“Because,” Stiles said “I can never be with him.”

 

The drive back home was long and silent from there on out, both Lydia and Stiles stewing over the events that had transpired. Stiles knew he’d fucked up. He was so conflicted. He wanted Derek, but he couldn't have him. Yet the alpha had claimed him. So... _now what?_ No other alpha would have him now. And how was he going to keep this from his dad?

 

*

 

Derek came to consciousness with a rush, thanks to the bucket of ice water thrown over him. Derek sputtered and coughed the water from his mouth and from where it had shot up his nose as he strained against the cuffs. They were unbreakable, even for a werewolf, courtesy of that Argent asshole most likely.  

His eyes scanned the dark room from where he lay on the cold concrete floor. He saw Peter sitting a good distance from him in a wooden chair, two of the guards flanking him and holding rifles, likely filled with more of the wolf's bane sedative darks to take him down, should he decide to attack. Derek knew better than to push his luck though, they very well may be carrying actual silver bullets. But Derek didn't think Peter wanted him dead. At least, not yet.

“Good morning.” Peter said.

Derek tried to push himself into a sitting position, but it was difficult with his hands bound behind his back and the poison still making his muscles uncooperative. Still, he managed as best he could, getting to his knees and coughed, the scent of this place causing memories of his past “corrections” the flood his mind.

“Oh Derek,” Peter sighed. “You really fucked up this time, you know that.” He got up and began to pace the room. “I bestow upon you our wealthiest customers. I’ve given you more freedom than any of my other slaves...”

Derek wanted to scoff at that. _Freedom? I’m a prisoner!_ Being allowed to go to the gym and see sunlight for a couple of hours a day was hardly _freedom._ But he stayed silent and just bowed his head, praying that his impending punishment wouldn't be the end of him.

“I’ve fed you and clothed you for years, allow you to even earn your own percentage…”

 _What the fuck would I do with money?_ He was never allowed to actually go out and spend it. It paid for his gym membership, maybe something to eat during his allotted workout time. But this was all just another illusion of the so-called _freedom_ Peter had so _graciously_ given him.

Peter moved in closer, bending at the waist to whisper in his ear. “And what do you do? You go a fuck some good for nothing, omega _twink,_ who can't even afford to fuck you.”

Derek tried to suppress the low growl rumbling in his chest at the mention of Stiles, at the fact that Peter was insulting his _mate._ The urge to rip the man’s throat out with his teeth was strong.

Peter straightened again. “Your dick doesn’t belong to you, Wolf. It belongs to _me._ You lost the right to choose where you stick it the moment you became mine. You violated that. And you were stupid enough to not even use protection.”

He felt Peter’s eyes boring into the top of his head, but he didn't dare look up at him. “If you’re stupidity results in that omega being pregnant, we’re going to have an even bigger problem.”

Derek stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't even _thought_ of that until now. And that got him to raise his gaze to meet Peter’s.

The sneer on the other man’s face was one of pure evil, and it made Derek’s stomach churn. “You better hope and pray that he isn't. We wouldn't want something bad to happen to the kid.”

Derek’s pulse roared in his ears at the possibility that he’d impregnated his mate, and the notion filled him with a confusing mix of pride and dread and a horrible, gut wrenching fear for Stiles’ safety. Peter wouldn't hesitate to do something to him to make sure Derek’s genes were never passed on to another…

He barely even registered the words when Peter stated “For your actions, you’ve earned one week on the fence.” before he was being hauled away to meet out his punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D
> 
> If y'all see any typos please let me know! This is unbeta'd, and honestly? Sometimes my eyes are crossed by the time I'm done writing that I'll miss something. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath...

**Luckily, Stiles had his own apartment** so he didn't have to deal with anyone when Lydia dropped him off at home that night. He was too conflicted, too emotional at the moment and fucked up to even attempt conversing with somebody. Scott had asked him to send a text once he was home, and Stiles sent him a quick message stating just that, before he showered and got ready for bed. 

He stared at his empty bed, feeling anxious and alone and he hated it. He hated how the night had turned out, hated seeing the alpha being shot at with darts like he was some kind of rabid animal. Which, to them, he was. Derek was dangerous and fierce and borderline feral, but with Stiles, he’d exuded a tenderness and showed so much care to his wellbeing, such patience, ensuring he’d felt as good as possible, that the contrast was staggering…

Stiles fisted the shirt Deaton had given him, bringing it to his nose to inhale the scent...It was Derek’s. He sense of smell wasn't as strong as a werewolf, but somehow he recognized the alpha’s scent. He wasn't sure if it was intentional to give him one of Derek’s shirts, but he was grateful to Deaton for this gift. 

His heat symptoms had ebbed, thanks to the alpha, but they were still there. And with Derek’s earthy scent in his nose, he felt that familiar urge to seek comfort in any way possible.

Stiles hadn't nested in years, not since his first couple of heats, but he was compelled to do so now. Most likely, because of the hormones coursing through him from having the alpha’s semen in his body, was driving his instinctual need to nest. It was embarrassing, this stage of heat, but there was nobody around to judge him as he went on a rampage in his room; cleaning everything he touched with an OCD-like proficiency, tearing pillows and blankets from his linen closet to cover his bed in as much surrounding softness as possible. 

Once his work was done, he flopped onto the pile of pillows and blanket, burying himself in the comfort of it and cuddling Derek’s shirt to his face. Then he let his emotions take hold. Let himself feel all of the loss and want and regret. If he cried a little, nobody had to know. He was alone, after all...He was alone...

*

Derek’s week on the fence was hell. He barely registered time, pain was all he could remember as the 7th day passed and he was finally set free from the restraints holding him to the electric fence.

He’d only been on the fence once before, when he’d first tried to escape the week Peter had bought him. But that was years ago, and he’d nearly forgotten the agony of this punishment. It was the worst sentence a shifter could get, and some had even died from not being strong enough to take it. 

Derek had survived though. So many times, he wanted to die, the pain was that great, that consuming and never ending and he wanted it to just  _ stop.  _ But thoughts of his mate, of Stiles, kept him going. Kept his wolf at the surface so he could take the pain, for just a little longer. He’d told himself that a lot;  _ just a little longer… _

And then, it was over. Miraculously. Blessedly. Over. Derek sobbed and wretched when they finally took him down, heaving dryly since he’d been starved all week, and so dizzy that he had to be carried.

He was brought to his room to be cared for by Deaton. They wanted to keep him alive, after all. He still had a profit to make. 

Once Deaton checked his vitals and for any other of signs of permanent damage, he wrote Derek off as cleared for natural recovery and let his supernatural regeneration take it’s course. 

Isaac cared for him during the several days it took him to recover; bringing his meals, cleaning the sweat from his body and helping him walk to and from the bathroom when he needed to use it. 

Awareness of everything came back to Derek in stages. The first sensation was the pain. Then scent. Then hearing and finally his sight returned to him in flickering greyed out intervals. But everything was still fuzzy, his hearing was damaged from the electricity and his eyesight not as strong, but his brain’s abuse from that fucking fence was what pissed him off the most. Coherent thought was hard to form when his brain was constantly being shocked. 

But as he recovered, his mind began working overtime, planning and plotting as if it was trying to make up for the week of nothingness. 

And his mind concluded that he  _ had  _ to see Stiles. Derek hadn't forgotten what Peter told him. His mate was out there in the world, possibly pregnant and possibly in danger. He knew he couldn't simply just run away again. They were going to keep a tight leash on him for a while until he was deemed trustworthy once more. And if he tried to escape he’d be tracked down by the other shifters-not to mention Argent-and be brought back to receive more punishment until it possibly killed him. And he couldn't die, not yet. Not until he was sure that Stiles would be safe. 

He knew he shouldn't have bitten the omega. He was nothing. Nothing but a slave and a whore and unworthy of a mate. But everything in him had told him to, and he couldn't fight the compulsion. Stiles belonged to him and as a human omega, he wouldn't understand the depth of that bond. Derek hardly understood it himself, but he _ needed _ to claim him. There was nothing he could have done to stop it. It was fate. 

The omega probably hated him, Derek thought. And the mark Derek had left on his neck would ward off other alphas from trying to claim what was his, and Derek couldn't regret that. But the rational part of him knew he’d fucked up. Because of that very reason Stiles may be alone, may never find a partner who would accept him because he’d already been claimed. The loneliness he’d seen in Stiles’ eyes resonated with him, because he could relate. His own loneliness had weighed on him everyday, but after claiming Stiles, that loneliness had been somewhat quelled. As selfish as it was though, he couldn't regret it. He just hoped stiles would forgive him…

Isaac entered the room that evening, bringing Derek food from whatever delivery place The Junkyard ordered from that evening and went about preparing the small table for him to eat. Isaac gathered up the garbage and checked the bathroom for anything that needed to be stocked, but never made eye contact with Derek.

Isaac had been his keeper for years, since he’d first been brought here. He held his schedule, managed his workout regime and constructed his diet so that he remained as healthy as possible when it came time to order food for the slaves. Isaac had always worked hard to take care of Derek and keep him on track. And Peter trusted him explicitly…

Isaac was about to leave the room, when Derek softly called to him. “Isaac.” He whispered. 

Isaac paused before opening the door, a new door with much sturdier handles that he couldn't break to lock himself inside, and looked over at where Derek was sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed. 

The beta went to him. “Need something-” Isaac nearly flew out of his skin when Derek grasped his free hand in his, looking up at the beta with earnest and desperation in his eyes.

Isaac stared back, wide-eyed and Derek could scent his fear. But he had to try, Isaac was his only hope. “Isaac...please, help me.” He whispered.

The beta’s brows together in confusion. “With what?” He was speaking a little too loudly for Derek’s liking. Other shifters might hear them. 

Derek tugged him down so their faces were mere inches apart, and he saw Isaac swallow thickly. “Stiles…” The alpha said softly. “Please...help me find him.”

Isaac drew back, his eyes widening. “Are you crazy?!-”

“Sshh!” Derek covered his mouth with his hand, still holding on to the beta’s wrist so he wouldn't get away. “Listen to me,” he whispered harshly, staring Isaac directly in this eyes and let his own bleed over to red. “He’s mine, Isaac, understand? He’s mine and he might be in danger. Peter suspects he might be carrying my pup. Remember what happened to the last person one of Peter’s slaves accidently knocked up?”

Isaac’s brows drew together. He remembered. The poor girl had had a serious “accident”, which resulted in the loss of her baby, as well as the use of her legs... 

When Isaac nodded, Derek continued. “He’s my mate, I claimed him and I need to protect him. I can't--If he gets hurt…” Derek’s voice cracked. Just the thought of Stiles being hurt because of him made him want to vomit. He released Isaacs mouth, bowing his head in submission as a sign of respect, even for a lesser dynamic like Isaac. 

The beta was silent for several minutes as Derek’s heart pounded. He was taking a major risk going to Isaac for help. He knew he didn't deserve it and Isaac would be risking his own ass by helping him, but Derek was desperate. Isaac was the only person in this place he could somewhat trust. “Please...I’m begging you…”

When Isaac released a pent up breath Derek tensed with anticipation. Isaac knelt down so they were eye level, then said in a measured tone that was barely a whisper “You are starting your workout regimen next week.” Derek only blinked at him, not fully understanding where he was going with this. Isaac glanced at the door, then back at Derek. “You will be allotted one full hour at the gym, starting Wednesday, when you are healed...I will be chaperoning you…”

Derek’s eyes widened, understanding his meaning. Derek let out the breath he’d been holding. He wanted to kiss Isaac, he was so grateful, but he nodded in understanding instead, before asking “Find him?”

Isaac gave him a barely perceptible nod, then stood and left the room. 

 

*

 

Stiles knew he’d have to go and face the music eventually. He still had classes and work and Sunday dinner with his dad, and his friend Scott had been blowing up his phone for the past 2 days since he’d returned from The Junkyard. He wanted details about how it went, but Stiles was tightlipped about it. 

He used his last day of heat leave the go to the doctors to get himself tested for any STD’s. He’d heard that werewolves didn't carry any kinds of human diseases, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. 

But he panicked a little when the doctor had asked him if he might be pregnant. Because... _ oh shit.. _

Stiles had been taking suppressants since he’d presented. They were supposed to prevent pregnancy as well, but the  _ what if  _ factors had began to set in:  _ What if werewolves had some super mojo semen that can bypass human birth control?!  _ He simply didn't know enough about werewolf biology and procreation to assure himself that he wasn't. So when the doctor asked, Stiles simply said “Maybe” and had gotten a pregnancy test done as well. 

It would take a couple of business days for him to get the test results back, and since it was Friday when he’d went to the doctors, he had the entire weekend to freak the fuck out until he heard anything back about his results. 

He went to Sunday dinner with his dad, Scott and his mom Melissa joining as well, and the entire time he was tense. He wasn't ready to tell anyone yet what had happened, wasn't ready to admit that he’d been claimed. He’d purposefully worn shirts with a collar all week to hide the mark on his neck. Luckily it was on the gland which was low enough, where his neck met his triceps, that he could hide it fairly easily. But every once in a while he found himself rubbing at the mark when he’d feel a strange twinge there. 

And Scott, being the perceptive alpha that he was, noticed. Because  _ of course  _ he did! Scott had known him for nearly his entire life and could tell when something was off. Luckily, he didn't say anything in front of his dad, but he did corner him in the kitchen as he did the dishes while his dad went to watch TV on the couch with Melissa. 

“Dude, what’s up with you?” 

“Nothing, I’m fine! I’m not being weird. Do you think I’m being weird?  _ You’re  _ being weird! Here, dry the plate!” Stiles babbled and thrust the plate into Scott’s chest.

“Stiles…”

“Hm?” Stiles glanced over at him, seeing that stupid puppy dog face and ugh! He wanted to punch him and spill all of his secrets at the same time. Stiles looked over his shoulder towards the living room, as if his dad may hear him, then gave Scott his own best puppy dog face. “Later, okay?”

Once the dishes were done, Stiles made the excuse that he had to go and get some things he needed from his old room and Scott followed him upstairs. Once they were in his room, Scott closed the door behind him and studied his omegan friend as he paced a bit before sitting down heavily on the edge of his bed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“You can start talking anytime now.” Scott raised a brow at him as he sat in the chair by his desk across from him.

Yet, instead of talking, Stiles undid the buttons on his flannel shirt, loosening it enough to pull the collar’s edge down, revealing the mark.

Scott stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. “What the--Stiles, what the hell--is that what I think it is?!”

Stiles let the collar of his shirt fall back into place and began to wring his hands, staring at his own knuckles silently. 

“C’mon man,” Scott pleaded. “Talk to me, what's going on? Why are you  _ marked?”  _

Stiles bit his lip, dropping his head into his hands. 

Scott went to him, gripping his shoulders, shaking them a bit to try to get his friend to focus. “Did this happen at that club? Did some alpha take advantage of you?!”

Stiles really wished everybody would stop assuming that. It wasn't like Stiles was a puny, defenseless omega. Okay so maybe he was 147 pounds of skin and fragile bone, but still! He could have fought the alpha off if he wanted. But he didn't. He could have refused the bonding mark. But he didn't. Because, yeah, he didn't  _ want  _ to fight it. 

“It wasn't like that, Scott.”

Scott’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It was...I don't know...instinct? Scott, I think he was my...mate.”

“Like...your  _ mate  _ mate?”

Stiles nodded.

“Dude,” Scott shook his head. “You’re human, there’s no way you could  _ know  _ something like that!”

Stiles met his eyes, his expression deadly serious. “But I did.” He said. 

Scott released his shoulders and sat back down in the office chair with a huff. “Damn…” There was a pause, before he asked “So, what are you going to do? I mean...he was one of the prostitutes, right?” 

“Yeah…” Stiles began wringing his hands again, meekly adding “And...he’s a werewolf.”

“Jesus Christ!” Scott exclaimed, a little too loudly. 

“Tone it down!” Stiles snapped. “Only you and Lydia know-”

“Lydia knew before  _ me?!” _

“She picked me up that night, since she’s the one who’d vouched for me to get in there in the first place. There were...complications. For obvious reasons, what we did was a big nono.”

Scott balked. “Yeah, no shit!”

“Scott, please.” Stiles sighed. “My dad can't know, not yet. But I was kind of hoping that you’d help me with something…”

At the look in Stiles’ eyes, Scott groaned “Oh god, what now?”

Stiles grinned a little. His best friend would help him, he knew this. But he also knew he’d be reluctant at first. “I need some information on him. Case files, past owners maybe? The reason for his enslavement would be a good start...”

Scott narrowed his eyes on him. “You’re not thinking of doing what I think you’re thinking of doing, are you?”

“If you’re thinking that I’m thinking of a way to bail him out of there? Then yep.” 

“You’re crazy,” Scott said. “You realize that, right?”

Stiles shrugged. “Maybe? I’ve given this a lot of thought over the past couple of days. I can't sleep, the mark on my neck...it’s like...I can  _ feel  _ him. He’s in pain, I know it. And he needs me. And...I think I need him too. I want him. I belong to him. He’s my alpha, Scott. I can't deal with the fact that he’s stuck in that hellhole and...I need to find a way to see him again. I can hardly stand being apart from him. It’s...literally painful.” 

With a long, heavy sigh and eyes softening with sympathy, Scott finally agreed. “Fine, I’ll help you get any information I can. But you have to realize, if there’s no way for you two to be together, you need to move on. I can't just stand to the side and watch you self destruct, I’ll step in if I need to.”

It was the closest thing to a promise of help as Stiles was going to get, and he smiled at his best friend. He was grateful to him. “Thank you, Scott.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cant believe how many views/kudos/bookmarks this has gotten so far! Thank you all so much! It really inspires me to continue! 
> 
> I have a couple of ideas on how Stiles is going to be tracked down by Derek, but if anyone wants to lend me at ideas I'd love to hear it. Bottom line though, theyre going to meet again soon ;) Not sure what will happen in that meeting, but...plot development?  
> It's a work in progress.
> 
> Anywho I hope you're still enjoying and I'll do my damndest to update for you again next weekend. <3


	6. Chapter 6

**As promised** by Isaac, Derek’s exercise schedule started again on wednesday morning. The beta drove Derek to the gym and parked. Derek was confused, he thought Isaac was going to help him find his omega, but it appeared as if he’d changed his mind.

Until, Isaac took out a key from his back pocket and gripped Derek’s wrist, unlocking the tracking bracelet Peter had given to Argent to place on him in order to monitor his whereabouts when he wasn't present at the club.

Derek looked to Isaac in astonishment as the bracelet was removed and the beta placed it on his own wrist. 

“You have 50 minutes to find him,” Isaac began hastily. He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a slip of paper, unfolding it and handing it to the alpha. “Your omega attends the University in the next town over. It’s a small town called Beacon Hills. He also works at the campus bookstore, but I don't know what days or his schedule. Be back here before your time is up, or you won't get another chance.” And with that, Isaac handed the paper with the written directions to the college and left the vehicle, heading towards the gym and leaving the car running for Derek.

Derek took precious seconds to process what had just happened, what Isaac had just done for him, before he was scrambling over to the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking lot. 

His adrenaline was racing, so much so that he began driving without checking the directions for which direction he should go or which highway to take. When he did finally check the directions, inwardly grumbling at Isaacs sloppy handwriting, he was relieved to see he was headed the correct way. Call it instinct, call it intuition or the beginning fragments of the bond they’d started, but he somehow knew where to go to find his mate without having to reference to the directions very often. 

Luckily, Beacon Hills was only a 20 minute drive outside of the main city, and the town was small enough that navigating the streets to find the University was fairly easy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but the town looked familiar to him. 

He swung into a parking space, praying that it wasn't a staff parking space that would cause the car to get towed, but he knew he only had about 15 or 20 minutes to track Stiles’ scent down before he had to head back to the gym.

He pulled on a ballcap and a pair of sunglasses to try to disguise himself, though he knew if he got close enough, Stiles might recognize his scent. At least, he hoped he did. They were bonded, after all…

As he hustled onto the campus, he was struck with how dangerous this all was. The risk he was taking was great, and it hit him then that he could escape...He could steal Isaac’s car, hide away somewhere, evade the hunters and trackers until he got far enough away to never be found…But he knew that was an unrealistic notion. For one, Isaac would be punished for helping him, possibly even killed. Then there was the problem with the trackers. Peter used other Shifters to track down the slaves who’d attempted to run away, and Chris Argent was merciless once they were caught. Lastly, he knew that if he ran, Peter would go after Stiles, using him as leverage. He may even harm him, Derek wouldn't put it past Peter. And Derek could never allow that, he’d kill anyone who touched Stiles with ill intent. Especially if his omega was pregnant…

With that thought in mind, he quickened his pace.

The halls were mostly empty, but he drew some attention from the few who still occupied them. He knew his scent was steeped with anxiousness and adrenaline, and he was behaving a bit frantically as he wandered through the halls, pausing by various classroom doors to scent the air for his mate. Other omegan females and a few males gazed at him with open interest, but nobody said anything to him.

Derek checked his watch, seeing that he was running out of time. He wanted to shout out for him, wanted to shift so he could better sniff his mate out, but he couldn't draw attention to himself and it was maddening.

He was about to give up and make his way back to the parking lot, when he caught a scent.  _ Stiles... _ It was as sweet and tangy as ever, and his mouth watered as he followed it, nearly running now as he drew closer and closer-

Derek stopped short at the door to a classroom. There was a window in the door and he carefully peered inside…

There he was...even more beautiful with the morning light streaming through his messy brown hair illuminating his pale skin from the large windows lining one wall of the classroom. He was running his fingers through the wild strands, making them stick up adorably in several different directions as he focused on whatever assignment was on his desk. His mate’s leg jogged anxiously, and he rubbed at the space low on his neck where the mark he’d placed on him was hidden beneath his shirt. As if his proximity could be felt through their bond. 

Derek nearly growled with both pleasure and frustration, closing his eyes briefly. He could practically see the new bond connecting them, like a woven golden cord wrapped around his heart and leading to what was his. His omega was so  _ close _ , yet he couldn't simply waltz in and steal him away. Especially not now, when Derek was out of time.

It took everything in him to back away from the door, memorizing the classroom number and making a mental note of the time he was in this particular class. It was 5 minutes to ten. Stiles’ class would likely be ending soon, but Derek had to leave. Promising silently to his omega that he’d return, Derek wrenched himself away from the vicinity of the classroom before he did something stupid like jeopardize Stiles’ safety, and ran towards the exit towards the parking lot. 

*

Stiles couldn't explain how, but he’d felt his alpha during one of his morning classes that day. It was brief, less than a minute and so subtle one might think he’d imagined it, but he couldn't shake the feeling. He told Scott as much when he met him after class in the commons area for coffee before he had to go to work at the bookstore. 

“Are you sure?” Scott asked. 

Stiles gave him a weary look. “I don't know...I can't explain it. It was different than what I usually feel through this weird bond I have with him.” Stiles lowered his voice, as if somebody else was listening whom he didn't want knowing this. “I could have sworn I scented him, too...when I left my classroom.”

Scott’s brows drew together. “How is that even possible? You don't have a shifter’s sense of smell.”

“Yeah, duh, I know. But when we were...you know...during my heat, his scent was so  _ strong.”  _ Stiles blushed. Scott had always been the one person he could tell everything to, but Stiles was still uncomfortable talking about his sexual encounter to  _ anyone.  _ “It was like...I was consuming it. I couldn't get enough of it and it made me so…. _ crazy.”  _ At Scott’s puzzled expression, Stiles explained “I read up on shifter and human pairings from this Reddit post. Some people posted, that when they bonded with their partners, and it turned out that they were something called  _ true mates,  _ that the human counterpart would inherit the ability to scent their pheromones, even in a crowded room. And they could scent how their partner was feeling, just like a shifter could!” 

It was a farfetched theory, considering the information was from a Reddit post, and he’d tried to back up his findings with actual medical facts from the biology and medical textbooks that were sold at the campus bookstore, yet nothing came up as this being an actual fact. It was more outlined as a biological anomaly that couldn't being explained through science. Kind of like the existence of God, Stiles supposed; Shit just happened, phenomenons, and nobody could explain it.

But it made sense. When he’d had sex with Derek, Stiles was in tune with the alphas emotions; could scent how aroused he was, was able to scent when he was about to cum, and even scented his fear when the door starting breaking in. He couldn't detect any emotion from the lingering scent that he’d caught outside of his classroom, but he somehow  _ knew  _ it belonged to Derek. 

“Scott...I think he’s looking for me. He told me, before he bit me, that he’d find me somehow.” 

He could literally  _ see  _ Scott’s hackles jump up faster than a wet cat surrounded by aggressively grabby toddlers. “Shit, dude this serious! What if he’s trying to run away? Stiles, what if he tries to get you to run away with him?! You told me that this Peter guy threatened you...What if he comes after you because his slave is trying to find you?”

Stiles tried to swallow past the nervous lump in his throat. Would Derek put him in danger like that? He didn't think so…

Despite the fact that he was a werewolf, or maybe  _ because  _ he was a werewolf, Derek seemed extremely protective. Not to mention possessive. He wouldn't put them in a situation where it would cause Peter to come after him... _ right? _

“I don't think he’d risk it.” Stiles admitted. “If I really am his... _ mate,  _ he’d want to keep me safe. That’s how you alphas operate, right?”

Scott ran a hand through his thick, dark hair, looking around them wearily. “Well...yeah. But this is different. He’s a shifter, I’m not. And him needing to find you may outway his need to protect you. Maybe he’d already been caught and that’s why he didn't wait for you.” Scott fixed him with a serious expression and leaned in closer to him over the table. “I think it’s time to tell your dad.”

Stiles balked. “No way, man! Are you crazy?!” A couple of people turned to look at the sudden outburst, and Stiles ducked his head and lowered his voice again. “My dad would  _ kill  _ me if he found out I’d bonded with an alpha werewolf  _ slave,  _ then  _ hid  _ it from him all this time!” 

“Maybe,” Scott’s expression turned fierce. “But think about your alternative. Would you rather Peter kill you?”

Stiles stress-pet his own hair, becoming anxious and agitated. “Shit…” Scott was right. His dad was the Sheriff, and now Stiles might require the department’s protection. He was going to be  _ pissed,  _ but his dad loved him. Hell, he might even help Stiles find out some information about Derek. He knew he had to tell him this upcoming Sunday dinner. He was dreading it more with each passing second. 

*

Derek made it back to the gym with a minute to spare and thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't been pulled over for speeding. It wasn't like he had a driver’s license. 

Isaac came rushing out as soon as Derek pulled up to the front entrance and Derek hopped out of the car to let the beta take the driver seat. Isaac was a sweaty, flushed  _ mess  _ and limped slightly as he hustled over to the car and hopped in. 

Derek went around to the passenger side, removing his hat and sunglasses before turning to Isaac. “What the hell happened to you?” He asked.

Isaac held up one finger, clearly trying to catch his breath, then reached into the backseat for one of the water bottles and nearly downed the entire thing in one go. Then he leaned back in the seat with a sigh. “Your tracker has that stupid FitBit thing to monitor your workouts.” He held up his wrist as he unlocked the device and handed it back to Derek. 

Derek blinked at him. “So, you had to do my workout regimen?!”

Isaac fixed him with a sideways glare. “Do you think I’d want to explain to Peter why your heart rate and steps were totally off from where they’re supposed to be after a workout?” 

Derek looked at the tracking bracelet as he secured it around his own wrist again. He had no idea that it monitored his body while he’d worked out. He just thought it was a tracking device to show where he was. He turned to Isaac again, taking in his red, blotchy face and sweaty hair and shirt. The kid must have almost  _ killed  _ himself doing Derek’s workout. For him, it was a mild challenge, just enough to keep him fit, without getting bulky. But for a beta like  _ Isaac?  _ Not to mention a human…

Isaac startled a bit when Derek placed a hand on the beta’s shoulder. “Thank you, Isaac. I…” Derek shook his head, still a bit disbelieving that Isaac had actually done all of this for him. “Just...thank you.”

“Yeah, well-” He brushed Derek’s hand away. “I hope it was worth it. Did you find him?”

Derek’s face split into a wide grin and his pulse raced at the memory of seeing his omega again, if only for a moment. “I did.”

“Good.” Isaac sighed heavily and put the vehicle in drive to head back towards the club. “Because I don't think I’d be able to do that again for at least a couple of days.”

Derek nodded in understanding. They needed to find a better way of doing this. 

Derek ran the last few miles back to The Junkyard in order to make sure he looked like he’d just worked out. The extra steps and maximum heart rate would be higher than his normal regimen, but Isaac would just explain he’d given him some extra cardio to build his stamina, if Peter asked. Then Isaac changed his own clothes in the car so he didn't look drenched in sweat, before they both headed inside. 

.

The next couple of days went by without incident. Derek worked out at the gym in the mornings, rested, ate, cleaned and prepped the nightclub downstairs for the night before he began his shift bartending. Derek wasn’t put on prostitution duty yet, the weekdays were slow and the usual patrons on those days couldn't afford Derek. 

But the alpha knew his reprieve would end once the weekend came. He also knew, for a fact, that he wouldn't be able to perform. 

As he’d expected, on Friday night before they opened for business, Peter called him into his office. Argent and another guard flanked him as he sat across from Peter, causing most of the bravado Derek was able to muster, to waver. 

“I’m putting you back on duty tonight.” Peter began, no nonsense, all business. “You have a lot to make up for, Wolf, since your little escapade with that omega. We lost a lot of money because of you. Now that you’ve gotten your strength back, you’re going to be working doubles until the money you lost me is paid back.”

Derek straightened his spine, staring straight at Peter and keeping his voice level, he simply said “No.”

Peter raised an imperious brow, but otherwise didn't react. “No?”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “I won't fuck anyone, not anymore.” Derek wasn't sure if he physically  _ could.  _ He was bonded, he had a mate and was compelled to stay faithful to him. “You know why I can't, and won't.”

A muscle ticked in Peter’s jaw. “Is that so?” 

“Yes.”

Peter continued to stare, for so long that Derek found it difficult to continue this standoff, then Peter began to chuckle and that evil fucking sneer spread across his lips. “Oh Derek...you think you have a  _ choice?”  _ He stood and leaned his tall body over the desk towards him, looming threateningly. “You’re a whore. A good for nothing slave. You don't get to make decisions here. Haven't you learned that by now?”

Derek swallowed. He was afraid of what this might mean for him, afraid he’d end up back on the fence for another week, but he stood his ground. He wasn't going to betray Stiles. He couldn't.

Peter sighed with exasperation. “You must really want that omega to get hurt. Such a shame, really. The boy is so young, has his whole life ahead of him…”

Derek stiffened. He knew Peter would use his mate as leverage to get what he wanted, and was prepared to fight for him. “Leave Stiles out of this! If you want to punish someone, punish  _ me. _ I’ll make your money back some other way, but not by whoring myself. I wouldn't be able to even get it up if I wanted to!”

Peter slid open a drawer in his desk. “I thought you might make this difficult.” He said, pulling out a metal case and withdrawing a syringe from it. 

Derek’s eyes widened, and he tensed to stand but argent shoved the barrel of his pistol against Derek’s temple. “Resisting will only make more trouble for you, Wolf.” Argent said at his ear, so quiet that Peter couldn't hear him. 

**Derek turned his attention back to Peter, who was approaching him with the needle. “I scheduled some very special clients for you. Clients who were willing to pay _extra_ for your time.” Derek grit his teeth as the needle slid into a vein in his neck and Peter pressed the plunger and lethargy quickly set in. “Don't worry, you aren't going to have to fuck anyone,” Peter said “but they can’t _wait_ to fuck _you.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop woop! Gotta love the plotting. Good thing Isaac's on Derek's side :)
> 
> Not sure how i'm gonna have Stiles' dad react to the news. Any suggestions for future chapters or how you want Derek and Stiles to meet again, feel free to tell me!
> 
> Hope you all are still enjoying this. Thank you all so much for the continued support!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I havnt updated this in forever! Mostly because of writers block and it's getting more difficult to decide how I want this whole thing to go down. But thank you to those you have continued to read/comment and follow this story! Inspiration is always welcomed and the support means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy!

Sunday rolled around and Stiles was  _ so  _ not prepared for the inevitable castration he may be receiving after telling his dad everything. So he’d brought backup-Scott, of course, and Lydia. His dad was also more calm around Lydia, and actually listened to her since she was the most level headed of the group in the Stilinski house. And she might be able to talk the sheriff out of his burning rage once it ensued. 

And, of course, because she knew more about The Junkyard than any of them did. Which, yeah, there was a story there. Lydia wasn't the type to visit a brothel for kicks (I mean c’mon, look at her!), so there was apparently some hidden agenda there. An agenda that she was keeping from Stiles. Which made him bristle. 

_ So it’s ok for HER to know about MY business?!  _ But at the look he’d received when he’d tried to pry, he let the subject drop. For now. All in good time. Maybe.

The test results that had come in from his doctor made this whole situation a bit easier to swallow, so to speak. He was clean, thank fuck, and he hadn't gotten werewolf-alpha-pleasure slave-knocked up, which he figured he wasn't, but better safe than sorry. What worried him the most was his odd mix of emotions when receiving the news. Yeah, he hadn't had sex with the intention to actually breed, and he sure as shit wasn't ready for that! But there was a brief blip on his omega-instinct radar which kind of baffled him a bit. But in the usual Stiles fashion, he’d ignored it for the sake of his sanity. 

What sanity he did have left, was slowly slipping. He was in a constant state of paranoia ever since he’d caught the scent of his alpha in his school earlier that week. He kept thinking that at any moment Peter would round a corner on him, fixing him that sneer and saying “You’ve really caused a lot of problems for me now, kid.” 

He’d woken a couple of time throughout the rest of the week in the grips of a panic attack, unable to fall back asleep for hours, even after he’d made sure all of his windows and doors were locked and secured. He’d even gone so far as to put mountain ash on the window sills and the entrances. Peter wasn't a shifter but... _ better safe than sorry.  _ That seemed to be his motto lately.

He’d briefly thought of removing it because what if his alpha tried to come to his apartment? But he dismissed that quickly. Derek had no business barging into his home, regardless of whether or not he was his mate. He could be putting them both in more danger and he had no arsenal to defend against said danger if his alpha decided to be reckless. Which, as evidenced by the fact that he hadn't even caught a whiff of Derek for the rest of the week, the alpha was laying low. Which was good. It was the smart thing to do. Stiles really wanted to see him, sure, but putting himself and the alpha in Peter’s crosshairs wasn't wise. At least, not until he had some of his own crosshairs aimed at Peter.

Which brings him to the sunday dinner with his oh so loving dad, the sheriff. 

“Lydia.” Was he dad’s first words once he’d opened the door to see the trio standing there.

Lydia gave him a sweet smile. “Sheriff.” Then she breezed in through the front door with all of her grace and confidence and ditching Scott and Stiles to make herself right at home. She knew the Stilinski house well enough to do so.

“Nice to see you too, dad.” Stiles rolled his eyes. He was forever stuck in Lydia’s shadow. But today, he couldn't not be grateful for it. 

Everyone gathered in the kitchen when it was time to eat. Mrs. McCall supplied the actual food, since his dad was pretty much hopeless in a kitchen, and she laid out the pieces of baked chicken, salad, and potatoes for everyone to dig in. 

Thankfully, Stiles was almost done with his meal when his father decided he’d had enough of the awkwardness and asked outright “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”

Stiles poked at a cherry tomato in his salad. “Well...My Forensics professor had brought in a partially decayed human skull to scrape DNA off of...”

Lydia pursed her red lips, Scott rolled his eyes. His dad looked unimpressed. 

“Stiles.” His tone made it clear that he wasn't going to tolerate his evasiveness. Noah was the sheriff for a reason, and he knew Stiles all too well. He knew something had been going on with him. 

Stiles swallowed, clasping his hands together in front of him, trying to appear casual while his nerves were jumping off the walls. “I...bonded with someone…” He stared at his knuckles.

When there was nothing but silence for long moments, Stiles chanced a glance up. His dad’s brows were drawn together in confusion and he leaned back in his chair with crossed arms.

_ “Bonded?”  _ His dad asked. “I didn't even know you were dating! How have you  _ bonded   _ with anyone? And why haven't I met them before you chose to make that kind of decision?!”

_ Shit... _ If his dad was mad about  _ that,  _ he  _ really _ wasn't going to like the rest of it. 

“You couldn't have had the chance to meet him, because I only met him once...and he’s kind of, like...a slave?”

The sheriff’s eyebrows rose all the way up to his hairline.  _ “Excuse _ me?!” 

Stiles’ heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest, his breath shortened, as if a panic attack was approaching. 

“It isn't as bad as you think.” Lydia chimed in. Stiles’ eyes snapped to her and Lydia fixed him with an expression he couldn't quite read. “You see, Stiles was helping me with some undercover work I was doing for my journalism class; Investigating the darker sides of today’s slave trade. And what we’d discovered was astounding.”

When Lydia was certain that she’d diverted the sheriff’s attention, she continued and leaned forward as if imparting a secret. “What we found, was that hidden away in places disguised as dance clubs, in this case it was a place called The Junkyard, was that slaves are brought in to run the clubs and are being forced into prostitution.”

When Stiles’ dad looked like he was about to lose his shit again, Lydia said “Stiles went with me while I interviewed one of the slaves being held prisoner there, I’m sure you understand why I’d want some backup, but the slave I was interviewing had only been there a short time and was very tight lipped about the whole operation. We were about to leave when Stiles encountered the owner of the club, a man named Peter, and he posed as a customer and asked the man about the slaves and who was being sold at the highest price. That’s when he was shown the upstairs of the club, where the slaves actually live and operate.” Lydia’s eyes pinned the Sheriff in place. “The slave who bonded with Stiles, whose named Derek, recognized him as his mate the second he stepped through that door. There were other slaves goading Stiles, trying to get his attention because he’s omega and Derek got him to safety. They...talked for a while. And clearly, Stiles recognized Derek as his mate as well. He asked for our help in getting him out of there and Stiles accepting his mark. But now, Stiles’ one true mate is trapped in that hellhole, with other slaves being forced into that lifestyle against their will.”

The sheriff’s gaze drifted to Stiles in a look of disbelief, and Melissa had her hand over her mouth, clearly upset by this news. 

“Is this true?” His dad asked.

Stiles nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, dad…”  _ Holy shit Lydia how am I supposed to follow up with a story like that?!  _ “I...knew you wouldn't be happy about it, but-”

The sheriff balked, as if Stiles’ words were an understatement. 

“But, I can't explain it. Something about our biology just... _ fit.”  _ At least that much was true. “We have to help him, dad. What that Peter guy is doing to these alphas? It’s wrong, it’s illegal!”

Noah rested his elbows on the table and rubbed at his face in exasperation. 

Stiles felt incredibly guilty. He was always causing trouble for his dad, and he knew the man wasn’t getting any younger. 

“Stiles,” Melissa said. “Did you...I mean...if he’s a prostitute and you two, you know-”

“Oh my god,” Noah groaned “Mel, please don't! I just can't-I don't want to know.”

Stiles placed his hands in his lap to hide the fact that he was wringing them. He took a deep breath. He had to be honest or else there was going to be more speculation than what was needed to accomplish his goal. “Yeah…” He whispered. “We did. I was tested afterwards and everything came back negative, so you guys don't have to worry about that.” He chewed his lower lip before meekly adding “Werewolves don't carry human diseases anyway, sooo-”

His dad slammed his palms down on the table. “What?!” 

*

The soreness Derek felt wasn't exactly a new sensation, but it had been a long,  _ long  _ time since he’d been used in such a way. 

He figured he should count his blessings that the alphas who’d used him were not permitted to knot him and that he healed quickly, or else he wouldn't have been able to go to his workout session when Wednesday came around. 

He’d purposely delayed before they left. This time, he was determined to see Stiles. Talk to him. Touch him…

Isaac removed his bracelet and hopped out and Derek drove to the college campus in Beacon Hills. He knew the way this time. Knew exactly where he needed to go.

He was early enough that the current classroom was still in session for the earlier students. Derek knew he probably looked like a creep, hanging out in the hallways as more and more students began to filter through the corridor. 

He caught his mate’s scent getting closer as the time drew nearer, and he couldn't wait anymore. He walked in the direction Stiles was coming from and ducked into an empty classroom. By the scent of it, it hadn't been occupied yet today and the chairs were stacked as if the room held no use. At least, not today. 

Derek’s heart nearly jumped in his throat when he caught sight of his mate down the hall. Two alphas were flanking him; a male and a female. Derek fought back the rough growl of possessiveness that wanted to rip from his chest at the sight of the other alpha male touching his mate’s shoulder when they stopped walking. His claws nearly popped when the female also touched his arm. They were getting their scent all over him! 

It was infuriating, watching his omega, so free and open with others and allowing himself to be touched so casually. The manner of which the other alphas touched him was way too familiar for Derek’s liking. It took everything he had to hold his position and wait, and not go and rip their throats out.

The other two alphas disappeared into their own classrooms and Stiles continued down the hall to his next class. Before he could think, he reacted and snatched him. 

*

Stiles felt a hand close over his mouth and a strong arm wrap around his torso like a steel band as he was hauled into an empty classroom. He tried to scream, tried to fight, but the force holding him was too strong and he panicked when the door was kicked shut and he was spun around to face the room before his was released. 

Stiles did an abrupt about-face, readying himself for a fight, or some kind of defensive maneuver to enable himself to escape, but froze when he saw the face of the man who’d grabbed him. 

“Derek…” Stiles breathed.

The alphas eyes flashed crimson, briefly, then he was locking the classroom door behind him. Derek was looking at him as if he was eyeing his prey. Stiles felt very much like prey at that moment. 

He couldn't believe how easily he’d just been snatched up! What if he had been Peter? Or someone who worked for Peter?! He really needed to increase his own personal security, but for now…

“What in the everloving balls are you doing?!” 

Derek winced at Stiles’ harsh tone. But he couldn't feel bad. Derek had scared the fuck out of him. 

“You can't just-” He flailed his arms wildly. “How did you-” He paused. “It  _ was  _ you last week!”

Derek’s brows drew together. 

“You were here.” Stiles said. “I felt it. I scented you! How did you find me?”

Derek’s eyes widened. “Scented me?”

Stiles ran his fingers over his mark. “Um, yeah. Kind of weird, but-”

Derek was upon him so quickly that he yelped in alarm. He expected to be pounced on and rutted upon, but Derek only pulled him into an embrace. He held him tightly, but carefully, showing the same care he had when they’d been together that night. He was so careful not to hurt him. 

Stiles wrapped his arms around the alpha in return. He could admit to himself that he was happy to see him unharmed. At least he  _ hoped _ he wasn't hurt. But his presence still begged the question of  _ how  _ he was here. “Derek…” But Stiles trailed off when his alpha began nosing at his neck, inhaling deeply. Stiles flushed and his mind blanked. He closed eyes and tilted his head to the side, allowing his mate more access. 

_ Damn he feels so good... _

“I hate that I can smell them on you…” Derek rumbled.

“Hmm?”

“The other alphas.”

Stiles blinked open his eyes. “Other...my friends?”

Derek thumbed at Stiles’ shirt collar until the area where his neck and shoulder met was visible. Where his mark was. Derek lightly put his lips over it, sucking on the skin there and making Stiles shiver. Then Derek pulled back, cupping Stiles face in his hands.

The alpha looked at him, held him, like he was something precious. Something to be treasured. Something that needed to be protected. It called to Stiles’ instincts and made him pliant and submissive.  _ God,  _ he’d missed this feeling. And he couldn't deny that it thrilled him that Derek was with him this way. That it wasn't just a one nighter to the alpha. He was  _ wanted  _ by this beautiful man. And, god help him, Stiles wanted him just as badly.

His fisted the front of Derek’s shirt, pulling him in closer until there were nose to nose. Stiles licked his lips, wanting to taste him again. Craving the connection he’d felt and had thought he’d lost the night they were literally torn apart. 

Derek closed the distance, their lips meeting and they both simultaneously groaned at the spark that passed between them at the contact.  _ Mine... _ Stiles thought.  _ He really is mine.  _

Their tongues touched and the kiss was deepened, fingers fisted in each other hair, their clothes, before Stiles knew what was happening he was being pressed against a wall and the long line of Derek’s body was being pressed against his own. He was able to scent Derek, scent his arousal and his need, and he was sure Derek could scent his own reciprocation of that desire.

Derek’s hands were everywhere, but the never wandered south to where his aching dick was straining against his jeans. Ok, so yeah he was at school, and yeah...maybe having sex in an empty classroom with his alpha wasn't a great idea in retrospect. But fuck, he wanted it. He wanted him again so badly his legs wobbled. 

Derek broke the kiss, staring down at him with those crimson eyes and lust blown pupils. His hand moved lower, sending a thrill through Stiles until Derek’s hand stopped to palm his lower abdomen. “You didn't conceive.” Derek said through panting breaths. 

Stiles blanched. “W-what?”

“Your scent. I can smell that you’re not pregnant.”

“O-oh…” Stiles swallowed. “No, I’m not. I checked. Ya know, just in case…”

Derek nodded and rested his forehead against Stiles’ own. “Good, thats good. I was worried. I-I didn't want you to be burdened by unwanted pups.”

Stiles felt a pang at his words. He wasn't ready for all of that, true. But their child certainly wouldn't be  _ unwanted  _ or unloved. 

He was about to tell him so when Derek pulled back to look at him and said “I have to go.”

“Wait-what? Why?!”

“I can't stay. I just...wanted to see you again. If only for a moment.”

Stiles shook his head, trying to clear the fog his brain had receded into. “How did you find me, Derek? How are you even here?”

“I go to the gym a couple of times a week. My handler helped me find where you went to school. I don't know how he did, but I came here last week to find you. By time I found you, my hour was up. My schedule is strict and my time with you is limited. I need to get back before I’m late. Peter will suspect.”

Stiles gripped Derek’s arm when he began to retreat. “Then don't go back at all!” Stiles said. “Come with me. Escape!”

Derek shook his head. “I won't risk your safety. If it was just my own safety on the line, I’d not hesitate to run away with you. But the trackers will find me. And when they find me, they’ll find  _ you. _ I won't put you in danger.”

Stiles ground his teeth in frustration, but released Derek’s arm. He hated this. He hated the power Peter had over them. Luckily, he’d convinced his dad to look into Derek’s case, find out why he’d been sentenced to slavery.. It was tricky, this whole situation. Slavery was allowed under certain pretenses, but prostitution was illegal. Yet, there was no way to storm Peter’s club without a search warrant, and since there was no actual evidence of the crime of prostitution, a search warrant wouldn't be granted. That, and the brothel was in another city and county. The Beacon Hills Police had no authority in another county. 

“I’m working on something,” Stiles admitted. “I’m trying to find a way to get you out. I have an in with the police here. I promise, Derek, I’m going to do what I can to set you free…”

“Oh Stiles,” Derek gave him a sad smile and pulled him into a hug. “Someone like me could never be free…”

Stiles wanted to argue, but Derek stopped any attempts of protests with a kiss. Then he said. “I have to go.” 

Before Derek opened the door, Stiles said “Wait. What gym do you workout at? And when are you going next? I’ll meet you!”

Derek’s eyes widened, and then he smiled. Stiles heart did a weird flip flop at the sight. 

He jotted down the name in his notebook and his workout schedule. Then, after one last long look at one another, Derek slipped out of the classroom door. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I havnt written in so long (and you could probably tell). Having a baby does that to you. AKA zaps all of your creativity because I've been stuck in mom brain mode for the past couple of months. But I thought I'd take a whack of writing again. I missed it, I really did. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! <3

“Murder…” Stiles breathed as he read the reports his dad had dug up. “No, it can't be true. It’s not possible…”

“But it is.” His father argued. “He burned down his family’s home, killing everyone inside. For his crimes he was sentenced to a lifetime of slavery, since the death penalty wouldn't have any effect on a werewolf.”

Lydia placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Stiles...I’m so sorry.”

“We can find a way to reverse this.” Mr. Stilinski continued. “We will not allow you to continue being tied to a killer.” 

Stiles shook off Lydia’s hand and stood from where he sat at the dining room table. “It isn’t true!” He argued. “I know him, he isn’t like that-”

“You dont know him at all!” His father stood as well and leaned over the table towards his son. “He’s a slave and a prostitute. He marked you without ceremony and he’s playing on your omegan nature to get what he wants! How can you not see that?”

All Stiles could do was stare at the papers littering the table; crime reports, mugshots of a much younger looking Derek, newspaper clipping showing a home burnt to rubble in grainy black and white. It made him feel sick, to think that the same man who had shown him such care and want and tenderness, would be capable of not only arson, but murder. 

I need to find out for myself. Stiles thought numbly. I need to hear him say the words. 

***

“A fight?” Derek blinked up at Peter from where his was chained to a seat in the man’s office. 

“You’re no use to me unless you’re making me money.” Peter said blandly. “And since your performance here is lacking, to say the least, I need to find some other use for you. The rules are simple; two werewolves go into the cage, only one comes out. Put those killer instincts of yours to good use.”

Derek grit his teeth, digging his lengthening claws into the arms of the chair. “I’m not a killer…” He said through his teeth.

Peter laughed. “Oh but you are. Or did you forget?”

Yes, he had forgotten. He’d buried those memories of his past in a hole so deep you could go fracking in it. Memories so blurred and distorted that no matter how hard he tried, they could never become clear. 

“The fight is in one week. During this time leading up to the fight I will be increasing your workout regime. You need to gain at least 10 pounds of muscle to fit into the weight class.”

Derek eyed him. “And if I refuse?”

Peter grinned that evil, twisted grin that rose Derek’s hackles. “I’ll have to find another way to repay the debt your little omega owes. I could collect it from him myself. Shall I make the call?”

“No.” Derek let out a growl. “I’ll do it…”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands together. “No time to waste. Off you go now.” 

The two men who were standing guard by the door unshackled him from the chair to escort him out. He was no longer free to roam the halls. Derek was constantly being watched or chained or jailed. As if this place was anything less than a prison.

“Oh, one more thing.” 

Derek turned to face him once more with a blank stare that gave nothing away. 

“Your rooms here no longer have use, given your change in career. You’ll be escorted to your new quarters to get ready. I’ve taken the liberty of having your things transferred.” The smug expression on Peter’s face only fueled Derek’s anger. But Derek did nothing but glare as he was escorted from the office.

The elevators took him down into the basement where there were exactly three cells, with reinforced doors that had a slot at the bottom only large enough to pass a tray of food and a small, narrow window that wasn't even large enough to fit a fist through and so dirty that Derek doubted anyone could see through it. 

If Derek thought that this place couldn't get any more like a prison, well, he’ll have to remind himself to think again. Because this was exactly that; prison cells. Solitary confinement level prison cells. He remembered being locked away for a time, and the memories brought on such a surge of anxiety that he stopped dead in his tracks. 

One of the guards nudged him with the cattle prod, the other pointed a gun loaded with wolfbane darts at him. “Keep walking, wolf.”

Derek swallowed and allowed himself to be guided into the very last cell. Inside, there was a cot, a steel toilet with an attached sink, and a small table and chair bolted to the floor. Atop the table was everything he owned; two sets of gym clothes and sleep clothes. 

Seeing how little he actually had brought to even more light how little he had to offer his mate. Besides what was in front of him and the clothes on his back, he had nothing. And even his paltry belongings were given to him by Peter. His apartments in the brothel gave him the illusion of luxury with the fancy decor and luxuries provided to him. But it was just that: An illusion. In reality, he had nothing. Nothing but his body and soul to give to him, and even that was damaged goods. 

Feeling more weary than he had in years, he slinked into the cell. Inside, he was unshackled, all while the gun was pointed at him, and then the guards left, the heavy door closing with a deafening clang. 

***

According to Derek’s workout schedule, he wouldn't be seeing him for another two days. Which suited Stiles just fine. He needed time to think, time to process what he’d learned and to brainstorm the questioned he wanted to ask. 

 

When the day came where it would be possible to see him again, he emailed his teachers to inform them of his missing classes that day and set out for the next town. It wasn’t a long drive, and he would be able to be back for his later classes, but considering the circumstances and his own internal freakout over this dilemma, not to mention how he’ll feel after learning whatever the hell he was going to learn, opting out of classes for the day seemed the wiser of the two options. 

He kept the radio off the entire way there, continuously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and monologuing to himself what he would say if Derek answered questions in whatever scenario Stiles’ mind conjured up. But by the time he reached the gym, he was drawing a blank. All he could think about now was A.) How to find him. And B.) How to get his heart rate to a more socially acceptable level. 

He sat in the parking lot with 10 minutes to spare before Derek was supposed to arrive, and as the time ticked closer to showtime, his anxiety ratcheted up further. At 5 minutes past, Stiles bagan to think his werewolf was a no show. Until he saw him striding through the parking lot. 

Stiles took a moment to give the alpha a once-over. He looked tired, pale (more so than usual), and surprisingly more bulky given his paled and haggard appearance. 

Seeing him again did nothing to help with his inner turmoil. What he felt for the alpha, his alpha, ran deeper than manipulation. He felt something through whatever bond they shared. And he believed that if he asked Derek to tell the truth, he’d be able to feel that too. 

With his newfound resolve...resolved, he stepped out of his jeep. With any luck, Derek would scent him and come to him without causing a scene. It wasn't until Stiles saw the cute beta with him that he faltered in his decision to come here. 

Jealousy surged through him, unlike anything he’d ever felt. The beta was harmless he was sure, but the way he touched Derek, placing that hand with those long, slim fingers on his arm as they walked together too close for comfort, sent heat to Stiles’ face with anger. Was it irrational? Sure. But it was also unfair that another got to touch him so freely. And it made him wonder what else-

Derek stopped abruptly and Stiles’ heart leaped into his throat. The werewolf scanned the parking lot for a moment and he turned in the direction Stiles was standing. His glittering hazel eyes shined in the sun and refracted off of his alabaster skin so perfectly as if he were being kissed by the rays and-holy shit Stiles get it together!

As soon as Derek began stalking towards him, which did all kinds of unwelcome things to Stiles’ dick, that beta grasped his forearm and tried to stop him. 

Stiles ducked back into his jeep, trying to hide his humiliation and possibly shield himself from whatever potential danger may be in his wake. He was about to call either call the whole thing a bust and speed off, or go and kick the beta’s ass when he saw the twink whispering in Derek’s ear, until he saw Derek give him a friend-like shoulder pat and the beta walked away. 

Oh shit...now Derek was coming towards him…

Stiles slouched in his seat as the alpha approached, and it wasn't until he reached the passenger side door that he actually mustered up the decency to act like a person and not a creep. 

Stiles unlocked the door. 

“Stiles-” Derek nearly lunged at Stiles the moment he was in the jeep. 

Stiles was helpless-for just a moment-not to receive his advances. He wanted it, gods how he wanted it, so he embraced his alpha as Derek snuffled at his neck and practically smothered him in his scent until Stiles came to his senses.

“Derek…”

“Mmm…”

“Derek, please. I-I need to talk to you.”

“Hm?” Derek pulled away respectively, making Stiles bite his lip in regret for ruining their moment. 

Stiles took a deep breath and Derek settled himself into the passenger seat, looking wide eyed and worried and...hungry? Stiles couldn’t pinpoint what exactly ailed his alpha but he had to get this over with. He curled his fingers around the steering wheel to steal himself.

“Derek...I-” He huffed. “I heard, well...learned some things. About you.” 

Derek’s brows drew together. “Yes?”

“About your past. And why you became a slave…”

“I see…” Derek’s loamy, masculine scent turned sour, which how the hell was Stiles able to perceive that? But he recognized that is represented stress. Again, how did he know that? He felt it though, through their bond. As fragile as it was, he was able to recognize their bond and the strands of emotions that wasn't his own running through it. 

“I have to know…” Stiles began. “I’m sorry, I know that meeting you here was supposed to be something other than this, but I can't let it slide to the backburner. Derek, please tell me the truth…”

Derek’s nostrils were flaring as he stared straight ahead, but Stiles continued. “Your home, your family-the fire...were you the cause of it?”

Derek stared for long moments out of the windshield before he turned his gaze to his wringing hands. 

“Derek?”

“I dont know.”

“What?-”

“I dont know!”

Stiles blanched. “How could you not know something like that?” He shifted around to face him. “Y-you burned down your own house with everyone...I mean-How could you not know what you did?!”

“Stiles...I don't know.” Derek said this so solemnly, that Stiles didn't know what to think of it. 

“What do you mean?”

Derek took a deep breath. “ I remember smoke, screaming, fire...then standing outside of my home as I watched it burn to the ground. I don't remember anything but that, and the fact that the police found traces of lighter fluid on my hands…”

Stiles gaped, unsure what to make of the confession, except for the fact that he knew Derek was telling the truth. He truly did not remember, and the lighter fluid? What to make of that? Unless…

“I believe you didn't do it.” Stiles said.

Derek turned to him with wide eyes. “How could you say that? Stiles...I killed my-”

“No.” Stiles interrupted. “I didn't believe it when I heard it, and I believe it even less now. I don't feel any guilt from you, all I felt was...sadness? Confusion and something else I can't explain...But I know when you’re lying. Maybe it sounds weird, but I know. And you’re telling the truth. So if you don't know what happened, maybe it wasn't your fault.”

Derek could do nothing but stare at his mate. 

“Derek,” Stiles turned to face him. “If we could prove that you didn't do it, that you’re not a killer-”

“Stop.” Derek quipped.

Stiles stopped his words in his tracks. 

“You wont feel that way about me soon…” Derek trailed off, and Stiles felt the fear and pain through their bond. 

“W-what do you mean? What’s happened?” 

“I’ve been forced into a fight. And it’s life or death. I don't have anything to live for Stiles, but I will win for you.”

“Wait-what?! Since when have you been a fighter?”

“Since I’ve refused to fuck anyone else since I bonded with you.”

Those words, unexpectedly, meant more to Stiles than he would have expected. He knew Derek was a prostitute, he’d accepted it. But to learn that he hadn't touched another since they've been together?

“Christ, Derek-” Stiles lunged over the center console and directly into Derek’s lap, straddling his hips and planting his lips onto his. 

Derek groaned at the contact but was hesitant to touch. 

“Do it.” Stiles said. “Touch me, please.”

“Stiles...I-”

“I don't want to hear anymore. I don't care who you are-what you are-I just know that I...I just want you to touch me!”

Derek’s growl sent a warm shiver down Stiles’ spine that went straight to his cock. Before he could even get his mind straight (and realize that he was in a very public parking lot), Derek was unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his own gym shorts down, his large dick spring from it’s confines and Stiles gulped. Seeing it in the light of day was completely different than in a soft lit room in the throes of heat. And he found himself hesitating.

“I won't penetrate you.” Derek said, so matter of factly that Stiles blinked at him. “But you need release, and so do I.”

“But-”

“Not here.” Derek said. “Not now. When we can be together again, freely and...privately, I’ll be so deep inside of you that you won't know where you begin and I end.” He wrapped his large, long fingered hand around both of their lengths. “But for now, this will have to do.”

Stiles bit his lip at the sensation. There was no way he was about to protest this. He’d been wound tight for days, in need of his alpha. His own touch wouldn't even come close to what he felt when Derek touched him. 

Stiles rolled his hips, stroking his dick along Derek’s and eliciting the most delicious sounds from his alpha. Derek squeezed a bit harder and bucked his hips in response, gasping at the first pass over both of their cocks. 

Stiles joined his hand with Derek’s and together they stroked one another. Neither of them cared about who might be walking by, nor the fog building up on the windows in the jeep. All they cared about was reaching completion together after so long of being apart. 

The only thing stalling Stiles’ climax was the pain. Not any physical pain, but the pain he felt through their bond. The heartache and regret that made Stiles want to cry because it was so intense. Why would Derek be feeling such thing at a moment like this?

He looked down at him, into those eyes that held so many secrets yet bared his soul at the same time. 

“Derek…” Stiles gasped. “Fuck-Derek I’m gonna-”

“Do it-”

“Holy shit-” Stiles spilled over both of their hands, their movements becoming more and more slippery and making the sensation even more electrifying. In Stiles’ case it made everything more sensitive. But he didnt stop. Couldn't, not until Derek had his own release. He’d endure the exquisite torture until then. 

It didn't take long though until Derek was gasping and shooting his own load over their hands to mingle with Stiles’ own. 

With a languid last stroke, Derek released them both, and brought his hand up to lick the cum from his fingers.

“Holy fuck that’s hot-” Stiles planted his lips onto Derek’s savoring the taste of their mingled release. When they both broke the kiss, they could do nothing but stare into one another’s eyes. Until Stiles, in his usual fashion, broke the silence. “Come with me.”

“Stiles-”

“I’m serious! Let’s just go, right now!”

“No, Stiles.”

“Why the fuck not?!” He was getting angry now. Stiles rolled over back to his seat and zipped up his pants. “We can drive off, right now. You won't have to fight or fuck anybody anymore. I can hide you. I can help you!”

“You can't risk-”

“Fuck you!” 

Derek blanched at Stiles’ outburst. 

“I can't do this…” 

Derek nodded. “I understand-”

“Fuck your understanding! I cant keep this up, this worrying about where you are, what you’re doing. Now you’re going to be in a life or death fight?!” Stiles shook his head. “I won't do it.” Stiles started the jeep.

“Stiles, wait!”

“Shut up!” He pulled out of the parking spot. 

“I can't risk-”

“That's not your decision to make, Derek!” Before Derek could make any more outraged protests, Stiles peeled out of the parking lot and headed towards the highway.


End file.
